{/A 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


4r 


PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 

MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


.-\. 


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GILBERT   THE    TRAPPER. 


Gilbert  the  Trapper 


OR 


THE  HEIR  IN  BUCKSKIN 


BY 


CAPTAIN   C.   B.  ASHLEY 

AUTHOR  OF  "LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


NEW  YORK 
JOHN  W.  LOVELL  COMPANY 

150  Worth  Street,  corner  Mission  Place 


7  \ 


7* 


GILBERT    THE    TRAPPER. 


CHAPTER  I. 

JACK     WALDRON's     RANCH. 

"  If  there  ever  was  two  plucky  boys  in  the  world, 
them's  'urn.  Sam,  give  'em  the  best  you've  got  in  the 
shop.  The  poor  critters  look  like  they  was  'most 
tuckered.  And  Tom,  you  and  Bob  jump  on  to  your 
ponies,  and  let  one  ride  down  to  Fort  Lewis  and  tell 
Colonel  Clark  the  story  we've  heard  from  the  boys, 
while  t'other  one  goes  to  Durango  to  spread  the 
news  there.     Off  you  go,  now." 

So  spoke  old  Jack  Waldron,  the  proprietor  of  one 
of  the  largest  cattle  ranches  on  our  Western  fron- 
tier.. He  backed  toward  the  nearest  chair  and  gazed 
about  upon  the  most  excited  group  of  men  that  had 
ever  been  assembled  under  his  roof,  after  which  his 
eyes  wandered  to  the  two  boys  to  whom  he  had  re- 
ferred, and  who  lay  panting  and  almost  exhausted 
upon  a  coucli  of  buffalo  robes  and  blankets  which 
had  been  hastily  made  up  in  the  middle  of  the  floor. 
It  was  no  wonder  that  they  looked  pretty  near  "  tuck- 
ered," for  they  had  ridden  twenty  nine  hours  with- 
out food  or  rest,  to  tell  their  nearest  neighbor,  Jack 
Waldron,  that  their  father's  ranch  had  been  raided 
by  the  Utes,  who  had  burned  the  buildings,  scattered 
the  herdsmen,  and  driven  off  all  the  cattle  they  could 
"  round  up." 


M31B7fifi 


6  GILBERT  THE   TRAPPER. 

"  And  just  to  think  that  the  biggest  of  them  boys 
is  only  ten  years  old,  and  that  his  brother  has  barely 
turned  eight !  There  ain't  nary  one  of  you  fellows, 
brave  as  you  thinl;  you  be,  who  would  care  to  take  a 
ride  like  that  with  no  weapons  in  your  hands,  and  the 
reds  all  around  you,"  continued  old  Jack,  looking  up 
at  the  scowling  cowboys  who  were  gathered  about 
him. 

The  broad  shouldered,  red  shirted  rough  riders 
were  quite  willing  to  admit  that  their  employer  told 
nothing  but  the  truth  ;  and  yet  Uncle  Jack  knew,  as 
everybody  else  does  who  has  ever  lived  among  them, 
that,  taken  as  a  class,  there  are  no  men  in  the  world 
so  utterly  devoid  of  fear,  and  so  reckless  of  life  and 
limb,  as  the  cowboys  of  our  Western  plains.  There 
is  nothing  they  dare  not  do — no  clanger  they  are 
afraid  to  face.  Like  the  animals  which  are  their  con- 
stant companions,  they  are  impatient  of  restraint,  and 
hard  to  control  ;  but  they  stand  by  a  man  when  he  is 
in  trouble,  and  never  forget  a  friend.  There  are  no 
sacrifices  that  they  will  not  cheerfully  make  for  him. 

"  No,  I  don't  reckon  that  any  of  us  hanker  after 
such  a  ride  as  them  tw7o  kids  took,"  added  Uncle 
Jack  ;  and  no  one  dared  call  him  a  cowrard  for  saying- 
it,  because  he  had  proved  his  courage  in  too  many 
trying  ordeals.  "  It  beats  me  how  they  ever  come 
through  to  tell  the  story  of  that  fight." 

"  Say,  uncle,  did  the  hostiles  kill  anybody?" 

The  stern  look  faded  from  the  ranchman's  eyes, 
and  an  expression  of  anxiety  settled  on  his  face. 

"  My  king !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  I  forgot  all  about  you. 
I  wish  in  my  soul  that  you  were  back  in  the  States 
where  you  belong  ;  I  do,  for  a  fact." 

These  wrords  were  addressed  to  a  boy  about  sixteen 
years  of  age,  who  just  then  stepped  up  and  leaned 
confidingly  on  the  brawny  shoulder  of  the  man  he 
called  "uncle."     He  was  dressed  in  cowboy  costume; 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  7 

that  is  to  say,  he  wore  a  wide  brimmed  hat,  a  flannel 
shirt,  and  coarse  trousers  thrust  into  a  pair  of  heavy 
boots,  whose  heels  were  armed  with  huge  Texus 
spars.  He  was  a  city  boy,  was  Gus  Warren,  but  he 
did  not  look  like  it,  for  he  was  as  tanned  and  weather 
beaten  as  any  of  the  men  who  were  standing  around 
him.  So  was  his  brother,  Jerry,  who  leaned  on  old 
Jack's  other  shoulder. 

These  two  boys,  to  quote  from  the  herdsmen,  were 
the  life  of  the  ranch.  Like  a  good  many  other  young 
fellows  of  their  age  they  were  fond  of  reading  stories 
of  Western  life  and  and  adventure  ;  and  after  many 
and  serious  consultations,  they  had  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  they  were  intended  for  cattle  raisers,  and 
nothing  else.  They  had  an  uncle  in  that  business 
whom  they  had  never  seen,  and  who  made  it  a  point 
to  send  them,  every  Christmas,  several  boxes  and 
bundles  containing  a  lot  of  things  that  St.  Nick 
never  would  have  thought  of  putting  in  their  stock- 
ings, such  as  Indian  relics,  specimens  of  gold  and 
silver  bearing  quartz,  lariats,  Navajo  blankets — in 
fact,  he  sent  them  so  many  things  of  this  sort,  that 
the  boys'  room  was  turned  into  a  regular  museum. 

This'  uncle  was  old  Jack  Waldron,  their  mother's 
brother.  He  had  never  been  east  of  the  Mississippi 
since  he  left  home,  almost  thirty  years  ago,  to  seek 
his  fortune  on  the  Pacific  slope.  During  that  time 
he  had  led  a  wild  and  roving  life,  and  met  with  many 
reverses.  He  had  been  a  miner,  seal  hanter,  specu- 
lator, and  explorer  ;  and  after  meeting  adventures 
enough  to  satisfy  him,  he  had  finally  settled  down  to 
lead  a  quiet  life  on  his  ranch.  He  did  not  own  an 
acre  of  land,  but  he  had  about  twenty  five  thousand 
head  of  cattle  that  were  worth  twenty  dollars  apiece, 
and  consequently  he  was  pretty  well  off  in  the  world. 

Of  course  he  corresponded  with  his  nephews  Gus 
and  Jerry,  and  of  course  he  wrote  so  glowingly  of 


8  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

the  plains,  and  threw  so  much  romance  about  a 
herdsman's  life,  that  he  made  the  boys  dissatisfied 
with  everything  that  was  civilized,  and  created  within 
them  an  intense  longing  for  the  freedom  of  the  prai- 
rie. He  did  not  mean  to  do  this,  and  consequently 
he  was  not  a  little  astonished  when  his  brother  in  law 
wrote  him  a  lengthy  letter,  telling  him  of  the  mis- 
chief he  had  unwittingly  wrought,  and  asking  what 
had  better  be  done  about  it. 

"  It's  me  that  made  them  dissatisfied  with  their 
home  and  yearn  to  be  cowboys,  is  it  ?"  said  old  Jack, 
wrathfully,  holding  the  letter  off  at  arm's  length  and 
shaking  his  finger  at  it.  "  No,  I  never  ;  'cause  no- 
body knows  better'n  I  do  that  a  cowboy's  life  is  one 
of  drudgery  and  toil,  and  that  where  one  succeeds  a 
hundred°  fail  Didn't  I  work  for  my  board  and 
clothes  the  first  year,  and  didn't  I  get  more  hard 
words  than  thanks  for  trying  to  do  my  work  the  best 
I  knew  how?  I  did,  I  bet  you.  Didn't  I  work  hard 
for  four  years,  taking  my  pay  in  cattle,  just  to  get  a 
start  in  the  business?  And  now  that  I  have  got  it, 
do  I  ever  see  a  minute's  peace  of  my  life  ?  Ain't  I 
in  the  saddle  sixteen  hours  out  of  the  twenty  four, 
freezing  to  death  two  or  three  times  every  winter  and 
melting  clean  away  to  nothing  in  the  summer  ?  And 
don't  I— but  whatrs  the  use  ?  If  them  boys  want  to 
come  out  here  and  suffer  as  I  do,  why  let  them 
come." 

So  saying,  old  Jack  threw  himself  into  a  chair, 
seized  a  pen  and  jabbed  it  into  the  inkstand.  Here 
is  a  portion  of  the  letter  he  wrote  in  reply,  and  I  ask 
you  particularly  to  note  the  difference  between  his 
talking  and  writing  : 

"And  as  for  those  uneasy  nephews  of  mine,  who 
have  suddenly  taken  it  into  their  heads  that  they 
would  like  to  come  out  here  and  see  how  I  live — why, 
I  don't  think  you  need  be  at  all  alarmed.     I  judge  by 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  9 

their   pictures,  and  by   the   very  interesting   letters 
they  send  me,  that  they  are  boys  of  courage  and  am- 
bition, that  they  are  fairly  overilowing  with  animal 
spirits,  and  it  is   natural  that   they  should  want  to 
work   off  their  surplus   energy  in  some  way.     They 
will  grow  into  the  sort  of  men  that  we  need  to  de- 
velop   this    great   country.     Most    of  the    city  bred 
young  men  who  come  here  with  their  pockets  full  of 
money,  fail  for  the  same  reason  that  they  would  fail 
in  the  States.     They  go  into  the  cattle  business  with- 
out knowing  about  it,  struggle  along  until  their  last 
dollar  is   gone,  and   then   degenerate  into  one  horse 
law  vers,  mule   whackers    and   second  rate   cowboys, 
working  for  little  or  nothing,  because  they  can't  do 
first  class  work,     We  have  no  more  use  for  such  peo- 
ple  here   than   you  have  in  the   States  ;  but  hardy, 
muscular  young  fellows,  who  are  not  only  ambitious 
to  succeed,  but  determined  to  do  so,  in  spite  of  every 
discouragement — these   are   the   sort   we  want,   and 
they  are  bound  to  make  their  mark.     They  don't  need 
money — they  are   better  without  it ;  for  by  the  time 
they  understand  the  business  well  enough  to  warrant 
them  in  setting  up  for  themselves,  they  will  have  a 
small  herd  of  their  own,  provided  they  take  their  pay 
in  cattle.     That  was  the  way  I  got  nrv  start,  and  it 
was  the  way  every  successful  stock  raiser  of  my  ac- 
quaintance got  his.     Let  the  boys  come  for  a  twelve- 
month.    I  shall  be  delighted  to   see  them,  and  if  I 
don't  send  them  home  cured  of  their  Western  fever, 
I  will  at  least  put  them   through  such  a  course  of 
sprouts  that  they  will  be  able  to  run  a  ranch  of  their 
own.     I  will   give   them  what  I   give   all  my  green 
hands — their  board  and  clothes  and  a  pony  to  ride  ; 
and  that's  more  than  any  tenderfoot  is  worth.     Write 
me  when  they  are  coming,  and  I  will  meet  them  at 
Durango,  which  is  the  nearest  stage  station." 

"  There  !  "  exclaimed  Uncle  Jack,  putting  the  cork 


10  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

into  the  inkstand  and  driving  it  home  with  a  blow  of 
his  fist.  "  If  that  letter  don't  open  the  eyes  of  them 
young  chaps  and  make  them  see  that  home  is  the 
best  for  them,  then  nothing  short  of  getting  caught 
out  in  a  blizzard  will  make  them  see  it." 

He  settled  back  in  his  chair  to  read  over  what  he 
had  written,  and  then  it  occurred  to  him  that  per- 
haps his  nephews,  who  were  entirely  unaccustomed 
to  manual  labor,  might  not  care  to  spend  a  whole 
year  on  his  ranch  if  they  knew  that  a  cowboy's  life 
was  all  work  and  no  play.  He  was  so  very  anxious 
to  see  them  that  he  did  not  want  to  say  anything  dis- 
couraging, and  yet  he  knew  it  would  never  do  to 
paint  things  in  colors  so  glowing  that  the  boys  would 
be  disappointed  in  the  reality  ;  so  he  added  the  fol- 
lowing postscript.  He  was  obliged  to  write  it  with 
a  lead  pencil,  because  the  cork  was  driven  into  the 
inkstand  so  tightly  that  he  could  not  get  it  out  with 
his  fingers  : 

"  I  believe  that  Gus  and  Jerry  incidentally  men- 
tioned hunting  and  fishing  in  one  of  their  letters. 
Well,  if  they  do  their  work  faithfully  they  can  get  as 
much  of  it  here  as  they  can  in  the  East.  There  are 
no  buffalo  to  speak  of,  the  skin  butchers  having  all 
but  annihilated  them  :  but  there  are  plenty  of  ante- 
lope on  the  plains,  and  elk  abound  in  the  foothills. 
Grizzly  bears  and  mountain  lions  are  the  terror  of 
the  herdsmen,  and  as  for  trout,  there  are  no  finer  in 
the  world.  I  give  my  men  a  day  off,  now  and  then, 
to  fool  away  in  hunting,  but  I  don't  encourage  such 
a  waste  of  time.  It  tends  to  make  them  lazy  and 
worthless,  and  that's  no  way  to  get  on  in  the  world." 

The  letter  was  sent  off  without  any  unnecessary 
delay,  and  in  process  of  time  an  answer  was  received, 
containing  the  welcome  intelligence  that  the  two 
boys  were  on  their  way  to  Durango.  Uncle  Jack 
laughed  aloud  when  he  read  it,  rubbed  his  hands 


GILBERT  THE  TBAPPEB.  11 

gleefully  together,  and  poked  his  chief  herdsman  in 
the  ribs  with  his  finger. 

"Boys  never  know  when  they  are  well  off,  do  they, 
Sam?  "  said  he.  "  These  two  nephews  of  mine  have 
a  comfortable  home,  indulgent  parents,  and  every- 
thing else  that  reasonable  boys  could  ask  for,  and 
still  they  are  not  satisfied.  They  want  to  come  out 
here  and  work  themselves  to  death  herding  cattle  ; 
and  my  sister,  who  is  their  mother,  blames  me  for  it. 
1  never '  said  a  word  to  induce  them  to  come  here  ; 
but  if  I  did,  I'll  make  'em  wish  I  hadn't.  By  the  way, 
you  had  better  look  up  a  couple  of  nice  ponies  for 
them  to  ride — gentle  ones,  mind,  for  they  don't  want 
to  have  their  necks  broken  the  first  time  they  get  into 
a  saddle.  And,  Toby,  you  had  better  see  that  that 
spue  room  is  freshened  up  a  bit.  The  boys  ain't  used 
to  our  rough  ways,  and  we'll  have  to  be  a  little  easy 
on  them  at  first  ;  but  we'll  break  'em  in,  won't  we, 
Sam  ?  We'll  work  'em  day  and  night,  through  heat 
and  cold,  for  eighteen  hours  at  a  stretch,  and  make 
'em  wish  they  had  never  heard  of  a  cattle  ranch. 
That's  the  way  to  break  up  the  Western  fever,  ain't 
it,  Sam  ?  Bless  their  hearts  !  I  wish  they  were  here 
this  very  minute." 

Uncle  Jack  spoke  so  earnestly  and  flourished  his 
clinched  hands  so  vigorously,  that  a  stranger  would 
have  thought  he  meant  every  word  he  said,  and  more, 
too  ;  but  Sam  did  not.  He  knew  it  would  be  as  much 
as  his  situation  was  worth  to  ask  the  expected  visitors 
to  do  anything  they  did  not  want  to  do. 


12  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPED. 


CHAPTER  n. 

RUMORS     OF     WAR, 

At  the  time  of  which  I  write  Gus  and  Jerry  Warren 
had  lived  on  Uncle  Jerry's  ranch  about  five  months, 
and  during  that  period  they  had  won  the  good  wrill 
of  every  one  with  whom  they  came  in  contact.  In- 
deed, it  is  hard  to  tell  how  anybody  could  help  lik- 
ing them,  they  were  such  generous,  jolly,  good 
hearted  young  fellows.  Of  course  they  knew  noth- 
ing whatever  of  life  on  the  plains,  and  they  were  sen- 
sible enough  to  acknowledge  their  ignorance.  If 
they  had  tried  to  throw  on  airs  over  the  rough  men 
by  whom  they  were  surrounded,  it  is  doubtful  if 
even  Uncle  Jack's  influence  and  authority  could  have 
made  their  life  on  the  ranch  a  pleasant  and  agreeable 
one  ;  but  they  were  hail  fellows 'well  met  with  every- 
body, and  being  possessed  of  more  than  ordinary 
strength,  activity  and  courage,  they  very  soon  be- 
came so  expert  wTith  the  rifle,  revolver  and  lariat,  and 
such  adej)ts  at  riding  bucking  bronchos,  that  they 
could  have  passed  themselves  off  for  cowboys  almost 
anywhere.  But  as  for  herding  cattle,  they  did  none 
of  it.  Uncle  Jack  wanted  to  visit  wTith  them,  and  it 
was  no  part  of  his  plan  to  ask  them  to  work.  He  let 
them  ride  about  with  the  cowboys  whenever  it  suited 
them  to  do  so  ;  but  he  wasn't  going  to  have  no  ten- 
derfeet  fooling  with  his  cattle,  he  said,  because  he 
didn't  want  to  have  them  stampeded. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  for  me  to  add  that  our  young 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  13 

city  friends  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  life  they  led  on 
their  uncle's  ranch.     They  would  have  been  hard  to 
please  if  they  hadn't  enjo;  ed  it.     But  remember  that 
up  to  this  time  they  had  seen  nothing  but  the  sunny 
side  of  a  cowboy's  existence  ;   of  his  trials,  dangers 
and  perplexities   they  knew  nothing.     But  all  on  a 
sudden  the  scene  was  shifted,  and  the  other  side  ol 
the  picture  was  shown  to  them.     The  first  intimation 
the  hoys  had  that  there  was   anything  wrong  was 
when   one   of  the  herdsmen  rode  m  from  a  distant 
part  of  the  range  and  inquired  rather  anxiously  for 
Uncle  Jack.     When  he  found  him  he  reported  that  a 
lar-e  party  of  Clnwennes  had  passed  him  the  daybe- 
fore,  bound  for  the  head  waters  of  Republican  Fork 
on  a  buffalo  hunt.  .-..■*        0 »  ■ 

'■Didn't  they  have  any  soldiers  with  them,  in- 
quired G-us.  r. 

"  Of  course  they  did,"  answered  the  cowboy.  It 
you  happen  to  see  a  party  of  reds  roaming  about 
without  a  blue  coated  escort,  you  may  know  that  they 
are  after  scalps  and  plunder,  and  you  had  better  dig 

out."  . 

"  Well,  if  these  Cheyennes  had  an  escort,  we  Have 
nothing  to  fear  from  them,"  observed  Jerry. 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  said  Uncle  Jack.  Lt 
the  Utes  find  them  out— and  they  are  sure  to  do 
that— thev  will  drive  off  some  of  their  horses,  there 
will  be  a  tight,  and  the  party  that  gets  the  worst  ot 
i+  will  want  to  be  revenged  on  somebody." 

"  But  not  on  innocent  white  people  ?"  exclaimed 

T"Haw,  haw!"  laughed  Uncle  Jack.  "It  don't 
make  the  least  particle  of  difference  to  an  Injun  whom 
he  scalps,  so  long  as  he  gets  the  scalp,  bee  .  Ihe 
Utes  are  a  mountain  tribe,  while  the  Cheyennes  are 
a  plains  tribe.  Thev  hate  each  other  with  an  undy- 
ing hatred,  and  you  can't  induce  one  of  them  to  ven- 


14  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER, 

ture  very  far  into  the  country  of  the  other.  On  the 
plains  half  a  dozen  mounted  Cheyennes  will  run  the 
whole  tribe  of  Utes  ;  but  let  the  fight  take  place  in 
the  mountains,  where  the  country  is  so  broken  uj) 
that  horses  can't  be  used,  and  ten  Utes  will  stand  off 
a  thousand  Cheyennes.  There's  going  to  be  a  fight, 
I  tell  ye,  and  somebody  is  going  to  be  whipped," 
added  Uncle  Jack,  earnestly.  "  So  perhaps  you  had 
better  see  that  them  outlying  herds  are  driven  up  a 
little  closer  to  the  post." 

The  herdsman  mounted  his  horse  and  galloped 
aw*ay  to  carry  out  these  instructions,  and  Gus  and 
Jerry  looked  at  each  other  and  at  their  uncle.  The 
latter  didn't  seem  to  think  that  he  and  his  men  were 
in  any  danger,  but  he  knew  that  his  cattle  were,  and 
the  knowledge  made  him  uneasy. 

"  Oh,  it's  a  heap  of  fun  to  be  a  stock  raiser,"  said 
he,  when  he  saw  the  expression  of  surprise  and  anx- 
iety that  had  settled  on  the  boys'  faces.  "  You  Lave 
seen  the  poetry  of  it,  and  now  you'll  learn  something 
of  the  prose.  Now,  quit  your  philandering  about 
over  the  j^lains,  and  star  around  the  house,  do  you 
hear?" 

"But,  uncle,  what's  the  use  of  soldiers  going  with 
that  hunting  party  if  it  isn't  to  keep  them  out  of 
mischief  ?  "  asked  Gus. 

"  They  are  simply  carrying  out  orders  from  Wash- 
ington, which  don't  amount  to  that"  replied  Uncle 
Jack,  snapping  his  fingers  in  the  air.  "If  the  Chey- 
ennes get  whipped  and  lose  some  of  their  stock,  they 
will  have  to  re2)lace  that  stock  from  somebody's  herds, 
and  take  a  scalp  or  two  before  the}*  return  to  their 
reservation.  The  main  bod}*  will  still  be  under  charge 
of  the  soldiers,  and  the  damage  will  be  done  by  strag- 
glers ;  see  ?  If  the  Utes  get  the  worst  of  the  fight, 
they,  too,  will  have  to  go  off  and  get  scalps  and 
blunder  to  heal  their  wounded  pride." 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  15 

"  And  the  ones  who  do  the  stealing  and  scalping 
will  never  be  punished  for  it  ?  "  said  Jerry. 

"  Never  in  this  world,"  assented  Uncle  Jack. 

"  Didn't  you  tell  us  that  the  Indian  who  killed 
General  Custer  was  known,  and  that  he  had  often 
boasted  of  it,  as  if  he  had  done  something  to  be 
proud  of?  "  inquired  Gus. 

"I  did  say  so." 

"  Why  didn't  the  soldiers  hang  him  the  minute 
they  got  their  hands  on  him  ?  " 

"  Because  those  fellows  who  live  in  Washington 
and  who  claim  to  be  the  servants  of  the  people,  while 
they  are  really  their  masters,  wouldn't  let'em;  that's 
why,"  answered  Uncle  Jack,  his  eyes  flashing  and  his 
fingers  working  convulsively.  "  The  way  our  Indian 
affairs  are  managed  would  disgrace  the  Hottentots. 
The  Indians  are  swindled  on  every  hand,  first  by  our 
government,  which  never  yet  kept  a  single  one  of  its 
treaties,  and  next  by  the  agents  and  traders.  They 
never  receive  their  annuities  in  full  ;  if  they  did  it 
would  be  impossible  for  an  agent,  with  a  salary  of 
fifteen  hundred  or  two  thousand  dollars  a  year,  to 
retire  from  his  post  with  a  princely  fortune.  They 
often  suffer  from  hunger,  some  of  them  having 
starved  to  death  in  spite  of  all  the  army  could  do  to 
aid  them,  and  is  it  any  wonder  that  they  are  con- 
stantly on  the  watch  for  an  opportunity  to  elude  the 
vigilance  of  their  blue  coated  jailers,  and  go  off  on  a 
plundering  expedition  ?  " 

"  Why,  Uncle  Jack,  I  didn't  know  you  were  such 
an  Indian  lover,"  exclaimed  Gus. 

"Neither  am  I,"  exclaimed  the  ranchman,  indig- 
nantly. "  I  hold,  as  every  one  who  lives  in  this  coun- 
try does,  that  the  only  good  Indian  is  a  dead  Indian; 
and  it  is  the  fault  of  our  government  that  things  have 
come  to  such  a  pass.  The  Utes  could  jump  down  on 
me  today  and  take  every  hoof  I've    got,  and   they 


16  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

wouldn't  be  punished  for  it ;  but  if  I  should  go  up 
to  the  agency  and  steal  some  old,  broken  down  crow 
bait  from  an  Indian,  the  agent  would  have  me  under 
arrest  before  I  could  think  twice.  O,  I  tell  you  it's 
fun  to  be  a  stock  raiser,  and  you  two  boys  don't  want 
to  waste  any  time  in  getting  at  it.  Now,  until  I  see 
how  this  thing  is  coming  out,  you  had  better  stick 
pretty  close  to  the  house.  That's  a  word  with  a  bark 
on  it." 

"  I  am  sure  that  there's  something  more  in  the 
wind  than  Uncle  Jack  cares  to  tell  us,"  said  Jerry,  as 
the  ranchman  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  away. 

And  sure  enough  there  was.  Uncle  Jack  believed 
that  there  was  danger  in  the  air,  and  he  became  pos- 
itive of  it  three  days  later  when  two  of  his  cowboys 
rode  up  to  the  house,  each  one  of  them  carrying  a 
pale  faced,  trembling  little  boy  in  front  of  him.  Gkis 
and  Jerry  knew  at  a  glance  that  they  were  Mr.  Wil- 
son's boys,  but  how  did  it  happen  that  they  had 
strayed  so  far  away  from  home  ?  The  trail  that  led 
from  Uncle  Jack's  ranch  to  Mr.  Wilson's  was  twenty 
five  miles  long,  and  for  a  third  of  that  distance  it 
ran  through  the  foot  hills,  which  were  so  thickly  in- 
habited by  grizzly  bears  and  mountain  lions  that 
even  the  cowboys  did  not  often  ride  through  them 
for  fun.  They  supposed,  of  course,  that  the  boys 
were  lost ;  but  their  uncle's  first  words  showed  them 
that  they  were  mistaken. 

"  There,  now!  "  exclaimed  the  ranchman,  bringing 
his  horny  palms  together  with  a  loud  slap.  "What 
did  I  tell  you  ?  Which  is  it — the  Utes  or  the  Chey- 
ennes?" 

"The  Utes,"  replied  one  of  the  cowboys.  "The 
Cheyennes  licked  'em,  and  they've  broke  out  and  are 
massacring  everything  iu  their  way.  They  wouldn't 
have  been  quite  so  bad,  most  likely,  but  when  they 
bounced  Wilson  and  tried  to  drive  off  some  of  his 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPEK.  17 

cattle,  he  and  his  men  opened  on  'em  and  killed  and 
wounded  half  a  dozen  or  so.  That  set  'em  to  biling, 
and  we've  got  a  war  on  our  hands  now,  sure  pop." 

When  these  ominous  words  fell  upon  their  ears, 
Gus  and  his  brother  turned  white  and  trembled  all 
over.  This  was  rather  more  than  they  had  bargained 
for. 


±8  GILBEET  THE  TKAPPER. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    PERILS    OF    FRONTIER   LIFE. 

"What  do  you  suppose  it  was  that  set  the  Indians 
fighting  in  the  first  place  ?  "  gasped  Jerry,  as  soon  as 
he  had  recovered  the  use  of  his  tongue. 

"  Well,  in  the  first  place  it  was  bitter  hostility,"  re- 
plied the  cowboy.  "And  in'  the  second,  it  was  an 
unsuccessful  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  Utes  to  stam- 
pede the  horses  belonging  to  the  Cheyennes.  Their 
failure  made  them  mad,  of  course,  and  as  they  could 
not  think  of  going  home  without  an}rthing  to  show 
as  trophies  of  their  bravery  and  skill,  they  jumped 
onto  Wilson,  who  would  have  given  them  another 
good  thrashing  if  he  had  only  had  a  few  more  men 
to  back  hiru  up.  Have  you  got  rested  now,  so  that 
you  can  tell  me  the  rest  of  your  story  ?  "  added  the 
herdsman,  addressing  himself  to  the  boy  he  held  in 
his  arms. 

"  Give  him  here,"  exclaimed  Uncle  Jack,  starting 
forward  and  tenderly  lifting  the  boy  from  the  saddle. 
"  What  was  I  thinking  of  to  let  him  stay  there,  when 
he  ought  to  be  tying  down?  Gus,  bring  t'other  one; 
and  you,  Jerry,  skirmish  around  and  raise  a  drink  of 
cold  water  somewhere.  So  the}'  have  cleaned  Wilson 
out,  have  they  ?  Well,  that's  what  he  gets  by  being 
a  stock  raiser." 

In  a  very  few  minutes  a  rude  but  comfortable  bed 
had  been  made  on  the  floor,  and  the  boys  were  placed 
upon    it.      After   their    hands    and    faces    had   been 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  19 

bathed,  and  they  had  refreshed  themselves  with  a 
long  and  hearty  drink  of  the  water  that  Jerry  brought 
them,  cool  and  sparkling  from  the  well,  the  older  boy 
was  able  to  give  a  somewhat  disconnected  account  of 
his  adventures. 

He  said  that  the  Indians  made  an  unexpected  at- 
tack upon  one  of  his  father's  herds  in  broad  daylight, 
when  all  the  cowboys  were  on  duty,  and  there  was  no 
one  besides  himself  and  his  brother  at  home.  The 
herdsmen  resisted  so  desperately  and  brought  so 
many  of  the  Indians  to  grief,  that  the  latter  finally 
abandoned  the  cattle,  and  devoted  all  their  attention 
to  the  whites.  The  frightened  boys  heard  the  rapid 
reports  of  firearms  mingling  with  the  wild  yells  of 
the  Indians,  and  knowing  that  there  was  a  fight  in 
progress,  they  did  what  their  father  had  often  told 
them  to  do  in  such  an  emergency — they  took  to  their 
heels  and  concealed  themselves  in  the  bushes. 

Having  killed  or  dispersed  the  herders  (the  boy 
could  not  state  positively  on  that  point)  the  Utes 
came  up  and  set  fire  to  the  house,  after  robbing  it  of 
everything  in  the  shape  of  clothing  and  provisions 
that  they  could  put  their  hands  upon,  and  the  boys 
lay  there  in  their  hiding  place  and  saw  them  do  it. 
They  killed  a  good  many  horses  and  drove  off  a  good 
many  more;  but  what  they  did  with  the  seventeen 
thousand  head  of  cattle  that  were  on  the  range,  the 
boy  said  he  didn't  know.  He  and  his  brother  waited 
long  for  their  father — so  long  that  they  began  to  fear 
he  would  never  come  to  them  any  more — and  as  soon 
as  it  grew  dark,  they  caught  a  couple  of  ponies  and 
set  out  for  Mr.  AYaldron's  ranch.  They  came  through 
the  foot  hills  in  the  night,  and  there  they  lost  one  of 
their  ponies.  It  was  killed  by  a  mountain  lion  which 
sprang  suddenly  upon  it  from  the  thick  bushes. 

"My  king!"  ex  1 aimed  Uncle  Jack.  "It  was  a 
wonder  he  didn't  kill  you  as  well  as  the  pony." 


20  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

"  It  was  Bobby,"  said  the  narrator,  nodding  toward 
his  brother.  "  He  knocked  him  off'n  the  horse,  the 
lion  did,  and  then  me  and  Bobby  had  to  ride  t'other 
one  till  we  found  a  camp. 

"What  day  was  it  that  the  Utes  jumped  you?"  in- 
quired Uncle  Jack.  "It  was  Tuesday,  I  reckon, 
wasn't  it,  ?  What  time  did  they  strike  your  camp  ?  " 
he  added,  turning  to  the  cowboys. 

"  One  o'clock  this  morning,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Then  they  must  have  been  in  the  saddle  twenty 
nine  hours,  without  a  minute's  rest  or  a  bite  to  eat," 
exclaimed  the  ranchman.  "  If  there  ever  was  two 
brave  and  plucky  boys  in  the  world,  them's  'urn. 
Sam,  give  'em  the  best  you've  got  in  the  shop." 

Then  followed  the  other  orders  which  I  have  al- 
ready recorded.  Those  thieving  Utes  must  be  over- 
taken and  driven  back  to  their  reservation  before 
they  could  do  any  more  damage;  and  the  sooner  the 
commandant  of  the  post  could  be  warned  and  the 
pursuit  begun,  the  sooner  the  trouble  would  be  set- 
tled. 

When  he  had  seen  the  cowboys  ride  away,  one 
toward  Fort  Lewis  and  the  other  toward  the  stnge 
station,  Uncle  Jack  turned  and  looked  toward  his 
nephews. 

"  Them's  the  sort  of  fellows  we  raise  out  here," 
said  he,  waving  his  hand  toward  the  boys  on  the 
buffalo  robes.  "  What  do  you  think  of  'em  ?  It  ain't 
every  grown  man  who  would  like  to  make  such  a  trip 
as  they  have  had,  and  I'm  as  proud  of  their  pluck  as 
I  would  be  if  they  belonged  to  me.  As  for  you  two, 
I  wish  in  my  soul  that  you  were  back  in  the  States 
w7here  }tou  belong.  Your  mother  will  blame  me  for 
this,  sure." 

"  Blame  you  because  Mr.  Wilson's  ranch  has  been 
sacked  by  hostile  Indians !  "  cried  Gus. 

"Eh?     No;  but  she  will  blame  me  for  bringing 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  21 

you  out  here  just  in  time  to  get  you  mixed  uj)  in  an 
Indian  war.  Them  Utes  will  run  the  best  they  know 
how,  and  when  the  soldiers  come  up  with  them  and 
give  them  the  thrashing  thev  deserve,  it  will  be  three 
or  four  hundred  miles  from  here;  but  that  won't  make 
any  difference  to  your  folks.  They  will  be  as  uneasy 
as  though  the  fight  took  place  in  my  door  yard.  As 
soon  as  I  am  gone,  you  must  write  to  them  that  I 
have  left  you  in  good  hands." 

"  Are  you  going  away  ?  " 

"Of  course  I  am.  Do  you  suppose  I  am  willing 
to  stay  at  home  when  my  nearest  neighbor  has  been 
robbed  and  perhaps — — " 

Uncle  Jack  was  about  to  say  "killed;"'  but  he 
thought  of  the  listening  boys  on  the  buffalo  robes 
and  caught  his  breath  in  time.  He  finished  the  sen- 
tence by  saying: 

"  And  i^erhaps  driven  so  far  into  the  mountains 
that  it  will  be  a  long  time  before  we  shall  see  him 
again.  I  ain't  that  sort  of  folks.  I  am  going  along 
to  help  thrash  them  Indians." 

"  And  are  we  going  to  stay  here  ?  " 

"  No.  You  are  going  to  the  post,  where  you  will 
be  safe." 

"  Now,  Uncle  Jack,"  protested  Jerry. 

"I  kn ow  all  about  it,"  interrupted  the  ranchman. 
"But  I  haven't  any  guarantee  that  the  other  Indians 
will  keep  still  while  the  Utes  are  on  the  rampage, 
and  so  I  am  going  to  put  you  where  you  will  be  taken 
care  of."' 

The  boys  said  no  more,  knowing  that  it  would  be 
a  waste  of  words  to  argue  the  matter.  It  was  very 
seldom  that  their  uncle  "put  his  foot  down,"  but 
when  he  did  he  put  it  there  to  stay.  To  quote  from 
the  cowboys,  he  was  "  sotter'n  t be  everlasting  hills." 

Gais  and  Jerry  could  not  have  told  how  they  lived 
through  the  night.     Everything  about  the  house  was 


22  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

as  quiet  as  it  usually  was,  but  all  the  firearms  were 
freshly  loaded,  and  placed  where  they  could  be  seized 
at  a  moment's  warning.  Uncle  Jack's  ranch  was  on 
the  borders  of  the  reservation,  and  there  was  no  tell- 
ing whether  or  not  Chief  Ouray's  influence  was  strong 
enough  to  keep  the  rest  of  the  tribe  from  going  off 
to  join  their  rebellious  friends  and  relatives. 

And  here  I  must  pause  long  enough  to  tell  you 
something  of  the  social  life  of  these  agency  Indians. 
It  will  give  you  a  better  understanding  of  my  story. 

The  plains  Indians  are  divided  into  two  classes — 
the  Farmer  Indians  and  the  Blanket  Indians.  The 
former  are  semi  civilized.  They  have  permanent 
abodes,  cultivate  the  ground,  and  raise  horses,  cattle, 
sheep,  hogs,  and  every  other  animal  usually  domes- 
ticated by  the  whites,  as  well  as  barnyard  fowls  in 
great  variety  and  abundance.  The  Navajos  of  New 
Mexico  stand  at  the  head  of  this  class.  They  seldom 
go  upon  the  war  path,  because,  having  plenty  to  eat 
and  wear,  and  being  let  alone  by  the  government, 
they  have  no  reasonable  excuse  for  it. 

The  Blanket  Indians,  or  non  treaty  Indians,  as  they 
are  sometimes  called,  outnumber  the  peaceably  dis- 
posed Farmer  Indians  ten  to  one.  They  are  the  fel- 
lows who  retain  all  their  nomadic  instincts  and  sav- 
age traits.  They  live  in  tepees,  and  roam  as  far  as 
the  limits  of  their  agency  will  permit,  and  sometimes 
much  farther.  They  hate  the  whites  and  everything 
connected  with  them,  and  will  not  submit  to  control 
if  they  can  see  the  smallest  chance  to  escape  from  it, 
even  for  a  short  time.  They  are  the  most  discon- 
tented and  turbulent  spirits  in  the  tribe.  They  would 
be  hard  enough  to  manage  if  left  to  themselves;  but 
unfortunately  they  have  in  their  midst  a  class  of  men, 
mostly  outlaws,  who  are  never  easy  unless  the  band 
to  which  they  belong  is  in  trouble  of  some  kind. 
They  are  generally  called  "squaw  men."     By  marry- 


G1LBEHT  THE  TRAPPER.  23 

ing  Indian  wives  they  secure  admission  to  some  tribe, 
and  straightway  degenerate  into  the  laziest  and  most 
worthless  beings  on  earth.  They  regularly  draw 
their  share  of  the  annuities,  deal  extensively  in  con- 
traband articles,  such  as  arms,  ammunition  and 
liquor,  and  sometimes  act  as  interpreters;  but  they 
are  not  as  often  called  upon  to  serve  in  that  capacity 
as  they  used  to  be,  because  the  authorities  have  be- 
come suspicious  that  the  interpretations  of  the  squaw 
men  are  colored  to  suit  their  own  ends. 

Perhaps  you  will  find,  before  you  get  through  with 
it,  that  one  of  these  squaw  men  has  a  good  deal  to 
do  with  my  story. 


24  GILBERT  THE  TBAPPER. 


CHAPTEK  IY. 

ON    THE    TRAIL. 

At  daylight  the  ne^t  morning  three  troops  of 
cavalry  from  Fort  Lewis,  numbering  a  hundred  and 
twenty  men,  rode  up  to  Uncle  Jack's  ranch,  accom- 
panied by  about  forty  cowboys  from  Durango  and 
vicinity.  To  these  Uncle  Jack  added  himself  and 
twelve  of  his  herdsmen  whom  he  had  selected  to  go 
with  him,  making  altogether  a  force  that  was  strong 
enough  to  strike  a  telling  blowT  whenever  their  Paw- 
nee guides  could  bring  them  within  reach  of  the  hos- 
tiles. 

"  Now,  boys,"  said  the  ranchman,  extending  a  hand 
to  each  of  his  nephews,  "Sam  will  take  care  of  you. 
Do  just  as  he  tells  you,  and  you  won't  get  into  any 
trouble  with  your  mother's  brother." 

"  Have  you  any  idea  how  long  you  will  be  gone  ?" 
inquired  Jerry,  who  was  astonished  at  the  coolness 
and  indifference  of  these  men  who  were  going  out 
to  face  death  at  the  hands  of  a  foe  who  had  never 
been  known  to  show  the  least  mercy  to  those  who 
were  so  unfortunate  as  to  fall  into  their  power. 

"  We  may  be  back  in  a  week,  and  we  may  not  be 
back  for  a  month,"  was  Uncle  Jack's  reply.  "  That's 
as  nigh  as  I  can  hit  it.  Them  Indians  have  got  to 
come  to  their  reservation,  if  it  takes  from  now  till 
Christmas  to  make  'em  do  it." 

"  But  he  wont  be  gone  as  long  as  that,"  said  Sam, 
as  the  ranchman  swung  himself  into  his  saddle  and 


GILBEliT  THE  TKAPPER.  25 

galloped  after  the  column.  "  The  hostiles  will  make 
it  a  point  to  be  back  here  before  the  snow  flies.  Have 
you  packed, your  saddle  bags  ?  Then  bring  out  your 
ponies  and  we  will  ride  down  to  the  post.  I  should 
like  to  have  you  stay  here  with  me,  if  your  uncle 
thought  it  safe  for  you  to  do  so,  but  orders  are 
orders,  and  must  be  obeyed." 

While  the  boys  are  making  preparations  to  go  to 
Fort  Lewis,  let  us  join  the  soldiers  and  cowboys  and 
see  where  they  went  and  what  they  did.  It  did  not 
take  them  twenty-nine  hours,  nor  half  of  it,  to  reach 
Mr.  Wilson's  ranch,  because  they  traveled  rapidly, 
and  besides  they  did  not  lose  their  bearings,  as  the 
little  boys  did  when  they  passed  along  that  same  trail 
a  short  time  before. 

Shortly  after  twelve  o'clock  the}r  were  within  sight 
of  the  ruins  of  Mr.  Wilson's  buildings,  and  a  sorry 
sight  it  was,  too.  Nothing  but  a  pile  of  blackened 
sun  dried  bricks  remained  to  mark  the  spot  on  which 
a  few  days  ago  had  stood  a  happjT  home.  With  the 
numerous  bodies  of  horses  and  cattle,  which  had 
been  ruthlessly  shot  down,  were  mingled  the  brokfef 
fragments  of  household  furniture  that  the  savages 
had  destroyed  in  mere  wantonness. 

"  How  can  men  look  upon  a  ruin  like  this  and 
cherish  the  least  spark  of  loyalty  for  a  government 
that  permits  such  doings,  or  feel  anything  but  the 
bitterest  hatred  toward  the  wretches  who  were  the 
cause  of  it  V  "  exclaimed  the  leader  of  the  Durango 
cowboys.  "  Scatter  out,  fellows,  and  see  if  you  can 
find  anything  of  Wilson  and  his  men." 

There  was  not  a  man  among  the  soldiers  who  did 
not  feel  like  cheering  the  bluff  old  cowboy  for  this 
fearless  expression  of  his  honest  sentiments,  but  they 
dared  not  do  it.  They  had  often  wished  that  the  men 
who  were  at  the  head  of  our  Indian  affairs  could  be 
compelled  to  take  their  places  during  one  short  cam- 


2i>  GILBEET  THE  TRAPPER. 

p.iigu,  bat  they  were  afraid  to  say  so  in  the  presence 
of  their  officers.  The  cowboy,  being  a  civilian,  was 
a  privileged  character. 

The  order  to  "  scatter  out "  was  obeyed  with  fear 
and  trembling,  the  soldiers  joining  in  the  search,  but 
taking  care  not  to  become  too  widely  separated;  but 
before  they  had  ridden  far,  they  were  recalled  by  a 
blast  of  the  bugle.  As  they  fell  into  line,  the  sol- 
diers in  the  center  and  the  cowboys  on  the  flanks, 
they  looked  around  to  discover  the  alarm,  and  saw 
that  one  of  the  scouts,  who  had  ridden  so  far  in  ad- 
vance that  he  and  his  horse  could  but  just  be  seen 
on  the  summit  of  a  distant  hill,  had  been  joined  by 
a  dozen  or  more  mounted  men,  with  whom  he  was 
holding  a  consultation. 

"  More  cowboys,"  said  Uncle  Jack,  whose  eyes  were 
almost  as  good  as  a  field  glass.  "  I  don't  think  we 
need  waste  any  more  time  here,  'cause  that  chap  on 
the  gray  horse  is  Wilson." 

And  so  it  proved.  The  owner  of  the  ranch  came 
up  in  a  few  minutes,  bringing  all  his  herdsmen  with 
him.  Two  of  them  were  wounded,  to  be  sure,  but 
they  were  still  able  to  sit  in  their  saddles  and  do  bat- 
tle as  well  as  any  of  their  comrades. 

"  Well,  it  ain't  by  no  means  as  bad  as  we  thought 
it  was,"  said  Uncle  Jack,  who  had  ridden  forward  to 
shake  hands  with  his  neighbor.  "We  have  been 
searching  for  your  bodies." 

"  It's  bad  enough,"  replied  Mr.  Wilson,  looking 
around  at  the  ruins  of  his  home.  "We  followed 
along  after  them  till  they  struck  the  hills,  and  then 
we  had  to  stop  for  fear  of  being  ambushed.  We 
killed  nine  of  them,  but  the  death  of  every  red  on 
the  plains  would  not  atone  for  the  loss  of  my  boys." 

"  What  boys  ?  "  asked  Uncle  Jack. 

"  My  boys,  I  tell  you,"  replied  Mr.  Wilson,  glaring 
savagely  at  the  man  before  him. 


GILBERT  THE  TBAPPEB.  27 

"  I  wouldn't  get  huffy  about  its  neighbor,"  said  old 
Jack,  with  exasperating  coolness  and  deliberation. 
"  Even  if  you  do,  I  shan't  be  sorry  that  I  took  em  in 
and  sent  them  to  the  fort  with  my  nephews." 

These  words  produced  a  great  change  in  the  angry 
ranchman.  When  he  came  up  he  was  so  nearly  be- 
bide  himself  with  rage  that  he  was  ready  to  shout  his 
best  friend,  and  all  because  he  believed  that  his 
motherless  boys  had  been  carried  into  captivity  by 
the  hostiles.  He  knew  that  the  Indians  had  not 
killed  them,  for  he  and  his  men  had  looked  over  every 
foot  of  the  ground  for  a  mile  or  more  on  all  sides  of 
the  ranch,  without  finding  any  traces  of  them.  But 
when  he  learned  that  they  were  in  good  hands,  the 
angry  scowl  faded  from  his  face,  and  he  broke  down 
completely.  His  lip  quivered  and  his  eyes  filled  with 
tears  as  he  leaned  over  the  horn  of  his  saddle  and 
extended  his  hand  to  Uncle  Jack. 

"  You  needn't  trouble  yourself  to  say  it,  because 
the  credit  belongs  to  the  boys  themselves,  and  not  to 
me,"  said  the  latter,  soothingly.  "  As  they  went  a 
right  smart  piece  out  of  their  way,  it  took  them 
twenty  nine  hours  to  find  friends,  and  when  they  rode 
into  one  of  my  camps  they  were  pretty  well  played; 
but  a  good  night's  rest  and  a  jolly  tuck  out  put  them 
all  right,  and  this  morning  they  were  as  lively  and 
pert  as  you  please." 

"  How  many  Indians  were  there  in  the*  party  ?  " 
asked  the  officer  who  commanded  the  cavalrymen. 

"I  saw  about  thirty,"  replied  Mr.  Wilson.  "But 
that's  no  sign  that  there  were  not  more  of  them." 

"Xo;  and  neither  is  it  any  sign  that  they  haven't 
been  joined,  before  this  time,  by  a  good  many  more 
from  the  agency,"  said  Uncle  Jack.  "  There's  a 
heap  of  discontent  down  there,  cap." 

"  I  don't  know  that  we  can  be  blamed  for  that," 
answered  the  officer. 


28  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

"I  ain't  so  much  as  hinting  that  you  soldiers  are 
to  blame  for  it,"  said  Uncle  Jack.  "  I'm  just  telling 
you  how  the  thing  stands;  hut  you've  got  e3res  and 
ears,  and  you  probably  know  as  much  about  it  as  I 
do.  It's  just  as  one  of  my  cow  punchers  said  yester- 
day:    'We've  got  an  Indian  war  on  our  hands,  sure 

POP-'  " 

"  Oh,  I  hope  not,"  said  the  captain. 

"Well,  you  wait  and  see  if  I  ain't  right.  We'll 
find  more'n  thirty  Utes  to  fight  when  we  get  to  the 
hills;  mark  that." 

"  There's  lots  of  squaw  men  among  them,  too," 
added  Mr.  Wilson.  "I  saw  them  and  heard  their 
voices." 

"  Those  fellowrs  are  always  ready  for  an  outbreak 
when  there  is  a  chance  to  steal  anything.  Can  you 
lead  the  command  to  the  place  where  the  Indians  left 
the  plains  and  struck  for  the  hills  ?  "  said  the  officer, 
turning  to  Mr.  Wilson. 

The  latter  could  and  did.  It  took  him  the  best 
part  of  two  days,  and  after  that  the  Pawnees  went  in 
advance,  and  for  a  week  more  led  the  column  along 
a  dim  and  difficult  trail,  to  the  place  where  the  Utes 
had  turned  at  bay.  It  was  in  a  natural  fortress — the 
top  of  a  round  hill,  whose  cap  rock  was  between 
twenty  and  thirty  feet  in  height.  Leading  through 
this  rock  were  twro  or  three  gaps,  which  were  so  nar- 
row that  a  single  determined  man  stationed  at  each, 
writh  a  Winchester  rifle  or  a  brace  of  revolvers  in  his 
hands,  could  have  withstood  almost  any  number  of 
assailants,  so  long  as  ammunition  and  provisions  held 
out. 

The  first  intimation  the  pursuers  had  of  the  pres- 
ence of  their  wily  foes  was  a  volley  from  the  top  of 
the  hill,  which  threw  them  into  confusion,  and  proved 
the  death  of  two  reckless  cowboys,  who,  in  spite  of 
repeated  warnings  (orders  they  never  would  obey  un- 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  29 

less  it  suited  them  to  do  so),  persisted  in  marching 
far  in  advance  of  the  trailers.  One  of  them  was 
killed  outright,  and  the  other  severely  wounded — 
but  he  managed,  by  the  exercise  of  almost  superhu- 
man strength,  to  reach  the  shelter  of  a  neighboring- 
bowlder,  and  there  he  lay,  in  full  view  of  his  horri- 
fied friends  below,  who  dared  not  attempt  his  rescue 
while  daylight  lasted.  The  steep,  almost  perpendic- 
ular sides  of  the  hill  were  bare  of  cover,  and  it  would 
have  been  certain  death  to  the  man  who  attempted 
to  scale  it. 

Had  it  not  been  for  the  impatience  of  some  of  the 
younger  Utes,  who  were  anxious  to  distinguish  them- 
selves by  killing  a  white  man,  the  pursuing  party 
would  have  suffered  great  loss  from  that  first  volley. 
As  it  was,  these  two  cowboys  were  the  only  ones  in- 
jured. 

"  Prepare  to  fight  dismounted !  "  shouted  the  cap- 
tain, and  the  order  was  obeyed  with  unwonted  alac- 
rity- , 

Leaving   a   few   of   their  number  to   protect  the 

wounded  man  behind  the  bowlder,  the  soldiers  fell 
back  to  the  first  turn  in  the  canyon,  sprang  off  their 
horses  and  took  to  the  shelter  of  the  rocks  to  fight 
the  Indians  in  their  own  way. 

"  Oh,  boys ! "  shouted  a  shrill  voice  from  the  top 
of  the  hill. 

"  That's  Buckskin  Bob,  if  I  ever  heard  him  speak," 
said  Mr.  Wilson,  who  was  crouching  in  his  place  of 
concealment  close  by  Uncle  Jack's  side- 

The  latter  looked  up  and  saw  the  figure  of  a  man 
standing  out  in  bold  relief  against  the  blue  back- 
ground of  the  sky.  He  was  perched  upon  the  very 
top  of  the  cap  rock,  twTenty  feet  or  more  above  the 
heads  of  his  Indian  allies,'  who  were  hidden  on  the 
brow  of  the  hill. 

"  That  squaw  man  is   tired  of  living— don't  you 


30  GILBERT  THE  TiiAPPER, 

reckon  so  ?"  said  Uncle  Jack,  as  he  drew  back  the 
hammer  of  his  Winchester,  and  pushed  the  weapon 
over  the  rock  in  front  of  him.  "He  ain't  an  inch 
over  three  hundred  and  fifty  yards  away,  and  if  he 
will  hold  that  position  just  a  second  longer " 

"Oh,  boys!  "  shouted  the  renegade  again  ;  "you're 
a  pack  of  cowards  down  there.  Why  don't  you  come^ 
up  and  get  this  cow  puncher?  He's  old  Wal- 
dron's  man  ;  and  if  Waldron's  among  you,  he  had 
o  ughter " 

The  report  of  Uncle  Jack's  Winchester  cut  short 
his  taunting  speech.  When  the  smoke  cleared  away 
the  squaw  man  was  seen  reeling  about  on  the  top  of 
the  cap  rock.  He  grasped  wildly  at  the  empty  air, 
and  pitched  headlong  among  the  rocks  beneath. 

"Old  Waldron  is  here,"  observed  Mr.  Wilson, 
when  he  witnessed  the  result  of  his  friend's  shot. 

But  the  sequel  proved  that  he  had  not  seen  the 
full  result  of  it.  Strange  things  were  destined  to 
grow  out  of  it.  It  set  in  motion  a  series  of  events 
the  like  of  which  had  never  been  heard  of  before, 
even  in  that  land  of  wonders. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  51 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE      UNKNOWN      SCOUT. 

The  result  of  Uncle  Jack  AYaldron's  long  shot 
brought  a  chorus  of  savage  yells  from  the  Utes,  who, 
in  the  death  of  the  squaw  man,  had  lost  a  valued 
friend  and  counselor.  Sheets  of  name  leaped  from 
every  crevice  in  the  cap  rock,  and  another  shower  of 
ballets  rattled  down  among  the  logs  and  stones  that 
covered  the  bottom  of  the  canyon.  The  cavalrymen 
raised  their  charging  shout  in  answer  to  the  yells 
and  sent  back  shot  for  shot ;  but  their  bullets  were 
necessarily  thrown  at  random,  for  the  fire  of  the  Utes 
was  so  accurate  that  they  dared  not  raise  their  heads 
long  enough  to  make  sure  of  their  aim. 

"This  thing  can't  last  forever.  They've  got  us  in 
a  dry  canvon,  and  I  don't  know  where  there  is  any 
water  to  be  had  ;  do  you?  "  said  the  captain,  appeal- 
ing to  Uncle  Jack. 

"  There's  a  nice  spring  up  there  on  the  other  side 
of  that  rock,"  replied  the  ranchman.  "  But  I  wouldn't 
care  to  go  to  it,  for  the  hostiles  have  got  it  too  well 
covered .  If  there's  another  drop  within  ten  miles 
of  here,  T  don't  know  where  it  is." 

"  The  Utes  were  sharp  enough  to  shut  us  off  from 
the  water,  cap,"  observed  one  of  the  cowboys,  who 
hippened  to  overhear  this  conversation,  "I'm  as 
drv  as  a  biscuit,  and  111  bet  that  poor  Aleck's  throat 
is  "on  fire,"  he  added,  jerking  his  thumb  over  his 
shoulder  toward  the  place  where  the  wounded  horse- 
man lay  behind  his  rock. 


32  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER 

"I  wish  there  was  some  way  to  get  him  out  of  that 
and  bring  him  inside  our  lines,"  said  the  captain,  anx- 
iously. "  I  don't  like  to  think  of  what  will  be  sure  to 
happen  when  it  grows  dark,  so  that  the  Utes  can  slip 
down  to  him  without  danger  to  themselves.  Now, 
then,  what  fool  is  that  ?  Look  out  how  you  -throw 
your  bullets  there  to  the   left.     Don't  you  see  that 

man  i 

These  words  were  called  forth  by  a  most  extraor- 
dinary incident  that  happened  just  then.  While  the 
fire  from  both  sides  was  at  its  hottest,  a  figure  clad 
all  in  buckskin  suddenly  made  its  appearance  be- 
tween the  lines.  Where  it  came  no  one  knew  ;  but 
all  the  cowboys,  and  not  a  few  of  the  soldiers,  were 
willing  to  declare  that  it  must  have  sprung  from  the 
ground,  because  it  did  not  seem  possible  that  it 
could  have  reached  the  place  where  it  was  first  seen 
without  being  struck  by  bullets  from  one  side  or  the 
other.  But  whoever  he  was,  he  was  friendly  to  the 
soldiers— that  was  plain  ;  for  he  showed  himself  to 
them  openly  and  fearlessly,  while  he  took  every  pre- 
caution to  conceal  his  movements  from  the  enemy  on 

the  hill. 

"It  can't  be  that  he  is  one  of  our— are  my  eyes  go- 
ing back  on  me?"  cried  the  captain,  who  had  leveled 
his  field  glass  at  the  object  in  buckskin.  "  It's  a  boy, 
as  sure  as  I  live." 

"  What  would  a  boy  be  doing  out  there  ?  "  said 
Uncle  Jack,  incredulously. 

"  You  don't  believe  me,  do  you  ?  "  exclaimed  the 
captain.  "  Then  take  my  glass  and  look  for  your- 
self. If  it  isn't  a  boy,  it  is  a  woman.  What  do  you 
say,  lieutenant?"  he  continued,  turning  to  one  of 
his  officers,  who  stood  with  his  glass  to  his  eyes. 
"  He  isn't  one  of  our  scouts,  is  he  ?  " 

'  No,  sir,"  answered  the  young  officer,  in  emphatic 
tones.     "  We  have  no  beardless  boys  in  our  outfit. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  33 

I  say,  captain,  lie's  got  something  for  you.  Look  at 
that." 

The  figure  in  buckskin,  who  up  to  this  time  had 
been  crawling  along  flat  on  his  stomach,  working  his 
way  over  logs,  through  bushes  and  around  rocks 
with  as  much  ease  apparently  as  a  cat  could  h;tve 
done  it,  now  reached  the  cover  of  a  bowlder  which 
was  large  enough  to  conceal  him  entirely  from  the 
view  of  the  watchful  foe  on  the  hill.  Here  he  raised 
himself  to  a  sitting  posture,  drew  a  piece  of  white 
paper  from  his  pocket,  and  waved  it  back  and  forth 
so  that  the  soldiers  could  see  it.  Then  he  turned 
himself  partly  around,  pointed  to  the  south  and  west, 
and  made  various  other  motions  which  the  captain 
could  not  understand. 

"  What  in  the  world  is  he  trying  to  get  through 
himself?"  said  the  latter,  in  great  bewilderment. 

"  Pass  the  word  for  one  of  the  Pawnees,  cap,"  sug- 
gested Uncle  Jack.  "  He  is  talking  to  us  in  the  sign 
language." 

"  Then  I've  a  good  notion  to  have  him  shot  right 
wrhere  he  sits,"  declared  the  captain.  "How  do  I 
know  but  that  he  is  a  renegade,  like  the  one  you  sent 
to  kingdom  come  a  few  moments  since  ?  He  is  on 
the  wrong  side  of  the  line  for  a  white  man." 

"I  don't  blame  you  for  being  suspicious  of  him," 
said  Mr.  Wilson,  "but  my  advice  to  you  is  to  hold 
your  hand  till  you  see  what  his  game  is.  It  wrill  be 
time  enough  to  shoot  him  when  you  become  certain 
that  he  is  playing  you  false." 

"Perhaps  it  will,"  replied  the  captain,  with  some 
reluctance.  "But  I'm  afraid  of  renegades,  and  don't 
want  to  have  anything  to  do  with  them.  Lieutenant 
Bolton,  send  somebody  after  one  of  the  trailers.  Be 
careful  not  to  expose  yourself  while  you  are  passing 
along-  the  line." 

While    the  consultation  was  being  held,  the  boy 


34  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

in  buckskin  had  repeated  his  pantomime  two  or  three 
times,  but  at  last  he  seemed  to  despair  of  making  the 
soldiers  comprehend  him,  for  paying  no  further  at- 
tention to  them,  he  once  more  threw  himself  upon 
his  face  and  began  a  critical  examination  of  the 
ground  between  himself  and  the  wounded  cowboy. 
The  latter  had  his  eye  on  Mm  all  the  time,  and  ap- 
peared to  be  trying  to  make  up  his  mind  whether  he 
ought  to  shoot  him  or  not.  He  was  not  whipped  if 
he  was  wounded.  He  fully  expected  that  thelites 
would  soon  be  down  after-  his  scalp,  and  he  was 
ready  to  make  a  desperate  resistance  whenever  they 
came. 

Seeing  that  he  had  attracted  the  cowboy's  atten- 
tion, the  figure  in  buckskin  held  his  canteen  up  to 
view,  whereupon  the  wounded  man  beckoned  fran- 
tically for  him  to  bring  it  up — an  appeal  which  this 
unknown  friend  could  not  resist.  He  began  working 
his  course  up  the  hill  just  as  the  chief  of  the  Pawnee 
trailers  crept  up  to  the  captain's  side. 

"  Turkey  Leg,  do  you  know  who  that  fellow  out 
there  is  ?  "  inquired  the  officer.  "  AValdron  doesn't, 
neither  do  I.  He  was  making  some  motions  to  us, 
and  I  sent  for  you  to  interpret  them  for  me;  but  I 
don't  think  I  shall  need  you  now,  for  I  see  that  he  is 
going  toward  that  wounded  cowboy.  Bolton,  keep 
a  brisk  fire  all  along  the  line  to  divert  the  enemy's 
attention.  We  fellows  right  here,"  he  continued  in 
a  lower  tone,  "  will  keep  him  covered  to  see  that  he 
doesn't  play  any  tricks." 

The  man'between  the  lines  probably  did  not  know 
how  very  suspicious  of  him  the  soldiers  were,  for  he 
made  not  the  least  effort  to  keep  out  of  their  sight. 
He  seemed  to  think  of  nothing  but  the  wounded  man 
toward  whom  he  was  slowly  but  surely  making  his 
way,  taking  advantage  of  every  stone,  bush  and  in- 
equality of  the  ground  to  conceal  his  approach.     At 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  35 

the  end  of  twenty  minutes,  during  which  time  the 
attacking  party  had  been  "pumping  in  the  lead  "  as 
fast  as  they  could  shove  the  cartridges  into  the  cham- 
bers of  their  breech  loaders,  the  soldiers  saw  him 
crawl  up  beside  the  thirsty  cowboy,  lift  his  head 
from  the  ground  and  place  the  canteen  to  his  lips. 

Then  a  cheer  long  and  loud — a  triumphant  cheer, 
such  as  they  had  often  sent  upon  the  field  of  battle 
when  they  saw  reinforcements  hastening  toward  them 
— rang  through  the  canyon,  and  the  bullets  were 
"pumped  in"  faster  than  ever. 

"  That  fellow,  whoever  he  is,  has  made  life  long 
friends  of  me  and  my  outfit,"  exclaimed  Uncle  Jack, 
when  he  cheered  himself  hoarse.  "  Ain't  you  sorry 
you  didn't  tell  your  men  to  shoot  him,  cap  ?  My 
king !     What's  the  fellow  trying  to  do  now  ?  " 

The  next  move  on  the  part  of  the  unknown  scout 
(fur  as  sucli  they  began  to  speak  of  him  now)  as- 
tonished everybody  who  witnessed  it.  First  he 
secured  the  weapons  of  the  wounded  cowboy,  after 
which  he  backed  up  close  to  him,  drew  his  arms 
over  his  shoulders  and  crawled  away  with  him. 

The  yells  of  encouragement  which  arose  from  the 
canyon  at  last  aroused  the  suspicions  of  the  Indians, 
who  sent  some  of  their  warriors  to  the  to}}  of  the  cap 
rock  to  inquire  into  the  matter.  But  if  they  dis- 
covered anything  they  did  not  live  to  report  it,  for 
as  fast  as  they  showed  their  heads,  they  became 
targets  for  half  a  dozen  long  range  rifles,  held  and 
sighted  by  men  who  were  dead  shots.  After  they 
had  lost  some  of  their  best  men,  the  Utes  ceased  to 
expose  themselves. 

The  incidents  which  I  have  described  in  so  few 
words  occupied  the  best  part  of  the  day  in  taking 
place.  It  was  about  eleven  o'clock  when  the  un- 
known scout  first  made  his  appearance  between  the 
lines,    and  it  was   four   in   the   afternoon  when  he 


36  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

crawled  out  of  sight  with  the  disabled  cowboy  on 
his  back.  No  one  knew  where  he  went,  and  there 
was  no  way  of  finding  out. 

"  By  George  ! "  exclaimed  Captain  Brent,  thought- 
fully, when  one  of  his  men  came  up  to  tell  him  that 
his  supper  of  bacon  and  hard  tack  was  waiting  for 
him.  "I  have  just  got  something  through  my  head, 
Waldron.  If  that  was  a  trick  on  the  part  of  the 
hostiles  to  get  that  cowboy's  scalp,  it  was  the  neatest 
thing  I  ever  heard  of." 

"My  king,"  was  all  Uncle  Jack  could  say,  while 
Mr.  Wilson  and  the  other  ranchmen  and  herders  who 
were  standing  around  simply  looked  their  astonish- 
ment. 

"Taken  altogether,  wasn't  it  the  most  mysterious 
thing  you  ever  heard  of?  By  George  !  I  believe  I 
made  a  great  mistake  in  not  shooting  that  man  on 
sight.  If  he  was  a  friend,  where  is  he  now?  Why  don't 
he  show  up  ?  He  has  had  plenty  of  time  to  work  his 
way  along  the  side  of  the  canyon  into  our — eh  ?  By 
George  !     Here — he — is — now !  " 

These  last  words  came  out  very  slowly,  as  if  the 
captain  were  thinking  about  one  thing  and  talking 
about  another,  as  indeed  he  was.  He  was  astonished 
beyond  measure  at  what  he  saw  when  Lieutenant 
Bolton  stepped  up  with  a  salute,  and  tapped  him  on 
the  shoulder  to  attract  his  attention.  And  well  he 
might  be,  for  there  stood  the  scout  whom  he  thought 
he  ought  to  have  shot  on  sight ! 

Uncle  Jack  said  "  My  king !  "  a  good  many  times, 
and  after  several  attempts  gained  sufficient  control 
of  his  powers  of  speech  to  say — "  Are  you  the — 
the " 

Then  he  hesitated.  The  person  he  was  addressing 
did  not  look  like  a  boy,  and  he  certainly  was  not  a 
man.  Uncle  Jack  did  not  know  what  to  call  him,  so 
Captain  Brent  came  to  his  assistance. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  37 

"  Are  you  the  brave  fellow  who  crawled  around 
out  there  aud  rescued  that  cowboy?"  said  he. 

"  I  gave  him  a  drink  of  water  that  he  was  much  in 
need  of,  and  I  am  quite  sure  I  saved  his  scalp,"  re- 
plied the  scout,  whose  perfect  English  astonished 
everybody  within  hearing. 

"  Are  you  a  government  scout  ?  "  continued  the 
captain. 

^No,  sir.  I  am  a  volunteer  scout  attached  to 
Major  Payne's  command,"  answered  the  new  comer, 
handing  out  the  letter  which  he  had  exhibited  while 
he  was  sitting  behind  the  rock.  "  Have  you  no  one 
with  you  who  can  converse  in  the  sign  language  V  I 
tried  to  make  you  understand  that  there  are  two 
hundred  men  marching  up  this  canyon  from  the 
southwest." 

"  Good  enough  !  "  exclaimed  Captain  Brent,  tear- 
ing open  the  envelope.     "  Where  do  you  belong  ?  " 

"Anywhere  that  night  overtakes  me,  sir.  I  have 
no  permanent  abiding  place.  The  man  who  claims 
to  be  my  father,  and  who  has  often  threatened  to 
shoot  me  because  I  will  not  acknowledge  the  re- 
lationship, lives  on  the  lower  reservation  and  draws 
his  rations  from  there.     He  is  a  squaw  man." 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  "  asked  the  captain,  growing 
more  and  more  astonished. 

"  Gilbert  the  trapper." 

"  Gilbert  who  ?     Gilbert  what  ?  " 

"  Gilbert  nothing,  sir.  That's  the  only  name  I've 
got." 

"  ATy  king  !  "  whispered  Uncle  Jack.  "The  boy 
is  as  crazy  as  a  loon." 


38  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

GILBERT    THE   TRAPPER. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  repeated  Uncle  Jack,  "  the  boy  is  plumb 
crazy,  and  to  my  mind  that  accounts  for  his  brave 
doings  out  there  between  the  lines.  He  didn't  have 
sense  enough  to  know  the  risk  he  was  running." 

"To  my  notion,  he  didn't  run  any  risk  at  all," 
observed  a  cowboy.  "  If  he  came  from  the  lower 
reservation,  of  course  all  the  Utes  must  know  who 
and  what  he  is,  and  they  wouldn't  have  shot  him 
even  if  they  had  seen  him.  You  know  how  super- 
stitious the  Indians  are  regarding  crazy  persons, 
They  think  it  bad  medicine  to  interfere  with  them  in 
any  way." 

The  object  of  these  remarks  could  not  have  been 
unconscious  of  the  curiosity  which  his  sudden  and 
unexpected  appearance  excited  in  the  minds  of  the 
soldiers  and  their  cowboy  allies,  but  he  did  not  seem 
to  mind  it  in  the  least.  He  sheltered  himself  behind 
a  rock  near  which  Captain  Brent  was  sitting,  and 
waited  imtiently  for  him  to  finish  the  reading  of 
Major  Payne's  fetter.  Uncle  Jack  and  his  friends 
took  the  opportunity  to  give  him  a  good  looking 
over. 

He  was  a  boy  not  more  than  seventeen  years  old, 
and  it  was  the  unanimous  verdict  of  those  who  were 
sitting  around,  and  making  a  mental  estimate  of  him, 
that  no  sculptor  or  painter  could  have  conceived  a 
handsomer  face  and  figure  than  his. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  39 

His  clothing,  from  the  Mexican  sombrero,  which 
sat  jauntily  over  his  long  curly  hair,  to  the  mocca- 
sins that  protected  his  feet,  was  of  the  finest  material, 
and  adorned  with  fringe  and  many  colored  heads. 
His  weapons,  too,  must  have  cost  a  tidy  sum  of 
money,  for  they  were  all  of  approved  manufacture 
and  silver  mounted.  His  hands  and  face  were  tanned 
as  brown  as  the  hot  sun  of  the  plains  could  make 
them,  but  his  hair  and  eyes  belonged  to  a  blonde  of 
the  most  pronounced  type.  He  did  not  at  all  affect 
the  Kattlesnake  Kob  or  the  Coyote  Charlie  swagger, 
as  do  many  plainsmen  who  have  less  to  boast  of  than 
Gilbert  had,  but  he  was  modest  in  demeanor,  and  his 
language  showed  that  he  knew  how  to  be  respectful. 
His'face  wore  an  expression  of  sadness,  which  seemed 
to  have  been  indelibly  imprinted  there,  and  his  blue 
eyes  had  in  them  a  wistful,  longing  look  that  excited 
Uncle  Jack's  sympathy,  and  led  him  to  tell  Mr. 
Wilson,  in  a  whisper,  that  the  boy  had  seen  trouble, 
young  as  he  was,  and  plenty  of  it,  too. 

"I  was  just  telling  myself  the  same  thing,"  was 
Mr.  Wilson's  reply.  "I  wonder  if  he  has  ever  been 
under  fire  before!  He  acts  as  if  he  had,  for  he 
doesn't  pay  any  more  attention  to  the  bullets  than 
the  soldiers  do.     Is  he  a  squaw  man's  son  ?  " 

"It  may  be  that  he  is,"  said  Uncle  Jack,  slowly. 
"You  know  that  there  are  a  good  many  among  that 
class  of  men  who  used  to  be  respectable  once,  but 
who  had  to  dig  away  from  the  States  in  order  to  get 
out  of  reach  of  the  law.  Gilbert  may  be  the  son  of 
a  forger,  or  somebody  like  that,  who  thought  it  best 
to  come  here  and  hide  in  the  mountains." 

"  But  it  can't  be  that  his  mother  was  an  Indian 
woman,"  continued  Mr.  Wilson. 

"Not  much,  she  wasn't,"  replied  Uncle  Jack,  em- 
phatically. "His  features  and  everything  else  about 
him  give  the  lie  to  any  story  of  that  sort." 


40  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

"  But  look  at  his  fine  fixings." 

"  Well,  look  at  'em !  Can't  you  see  that  they  have 
been  selected  and  put  on  with  the  nicest  taste? 
Give  an  Indian  or  a  halfbreed  all  them  things,  and 
see  what  ridiculous  shape  he  would  get  himself  up 
in.     I  would  like  much  to  know  his  history." 

"  So  would  I.  There's  something  very  strange  and 
mysterious  about  him.  He  seems  to  believe  that  the 
man  who  claims  to  be  his  father  is  no  relation  to 
him,  and  yet  he  chums  with  dirty  agency  Indians 
and  squaw  men.     Explain  that  if  you  can." 

"  It  is  quite  bej'ond  me.  There  comes  Robinson," 
replied  IJncle  Jack,  nodding  toward  one  of  the 
scouts  who  was  creeping  along  the  line  in  their 
direction.  "  He  knows  eveiwone  on  the  reservation. 
Let's  ask  him." 

"  Well,  Gilbert,"  said  Captain  Brent,  folding  up 
the  letter  the  scout  had  given  him  and  putting  it 
away  in  his  pocket,  "you  have  brought  me  the  best 
kind  of  news.  Our  work  is  nearly  done,  gentlemen," 
he  added,  addressing  himself  to  the  cow  men  in 
general  and  to  no  one  in  particular.  "  We  have  had 
a  heavy  force  operating  with  us  all  the  time,  and 
we  never  knew  it.  This  seems  to  be  a  general  up- 
rising, but  we  are  going  to  put  it  down  inside  of  a 
week.  The  lower  Indians  have  left  their  reservation, 
but  Major  Payne  has  already  headed  them  off,  and 
he  writes  me  that  he  is  now  moving  up  the  canyon 
to  attend  to  the  hostiles  in  our  front.  If  our  friends 
on  the  hill  stajT  there  two  hours  longer,  we  shall 
capture  the  last  one  of  them.  Did  you  want  to  speak 
with  me,  Robinson  ?  " 

"I  reckon,"  replied  the  scout,  after  he  had  shaken 
hands  with  Gilbert  the  trapper.  Uncle  Jack  and 
his  friend  Wilson,  were  glad  to  see  him  do  that,  for 
it  proved  that  he  was  acquainted  with  their  mysteri- 
ous visitor,  and  they  hoped  he  might  be  able  to  tell 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER,  « 

thorn  something  about  him.  "  I  come  up  to  tell  you 
his  herrca/'°  added  Robinson.  -  Them  Utes  has 
a  couHer  come  to  their  lines  with  news  as  well  as  we 
have!  an'  they  ain't  gom>  to  stay  thar  and  let  Major 
Payne  corner  'em  like  rats  into  a  buttery.  (_  The)  le 
diffein'  out  o'  that  as  fast  as  ever  they  can. 

"How  do  you  know?"  exclaimed  the  captain, 
jumping  to  his  feet ;  but  he  immediately  sat  down 
S,  for  no  sooner  did  he  show  himself  above  the 
stone' parapet  which  the  "^.^S^H 
hastily  thrown  up  for  their  protection,  than  a  bullet 
f^m  the  top  of  the  hill  struck  his  cap  and  knocked 

^SK  that  they ^as  all  g one  car £ said 
the  scout.     "  I  jest  made  the   remark  that  they  was 

Join'  I  know  it  from  the  slackin'  of  their  lire,  which 
was  done  all  on  a  sudden  like  ;  but  they  ve  left  a 
Zr  guard  behind,  an'  you  don't  want  to  poke  your 
head  about  too  loose  and  reckless. 

«I  wonder  if  that  rear  guard  is   strong  enough  to 
resist  an  advance,  if  we  should  make  one,    said  Cap- 

tain  Brent.  „     ..     .       «;*   _.-,. 

"Well"  replied  the  scout,  reflectively,  it  50U 
take  a  notion  to  order  an  advance,  I  reckon  the  boys 
would  Z  ;  but  if  you  will  wait  till  daylight  tomorrer 
you  can  walk  up  to  that  cap  rock  without  losin  any- 

b°"  I  suppose  so,  but  what  are  we  to  do  for  water  in 

tb"  The're'sTstreain  about  a  mile  from  here  at  which 
I  filled  mv  canteen,"  said  Gilbert.  "When  it  gets  a 
Uttle  darker  I  can  go  down  there  with  a  few  men  and 
brino-  back  as  much  water  as  you  want. 

*ft  wouldn't  be  safe  for  the  command  to  move  up 
and  get  command  of  that  stream,  I  suppose?  Ine 
horses  want  water  worse  than  we  do. 

'if  you  mean  to  ask  my  advice,  I  would  say,  stay 


42  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

where  you  are  for  the  night,"  answered  Gilbert. 
"  No  matter  which  side  of  the  hill  you  go,  the  Utes' 
rear  guard  will  cut  you  off  ;  and  the  ground  is  so 
favorable  for  an  ambuscade,  that  oue  man  behind  the 
rocks  can  stand  off  a  whole  company.  I  say,  captain, 
that  man  of  yours  is  pretty  badly  hurt,  and  I  should 
think  you  ought  to  send  for  him." 

The  officer  thought  so,  too,  and  ordered  Turkey 
Leg,  the  Pawnee,  to  take  four  of  his  Indians  and  go 
with  Gilbert,  who  would  show  them  where  the  cow- 
boy was.  The  chief  silently  obeyed,  and  when  he 
and  the  young  scout  were  out  of  hearing,  the  captain 
turned  to  Robinson  and  asked  who  that  young  fel- 
low in  buckskin  was. 

"You  wouldn't  b'lieve  that  he's  ole  Pete  Axley's 
son  if  I  should  tell  you  so,  would  you  ?  "was  Robin- 
son's answer. 

The  captain  did  not  know  Pete  Axley,  except  by 
reputation  ;  but  Uncle  Jack  and  some  of  the  other 
cow  men  were  well  acquainted  with  him,  and  they 
one  and  all  hastened  to  declare  that  they  knew  bet- 
ter— that  that  fine  young  fellow  was  not  in  anjT  way 
related  to  the  squaw  man  and  desperado. 

"  You  can  get  a  fight  out  of  Pete  any  time  you 
want  it,  by  jest  sayin'  them  words  in  his  hearin'," 
said  Robinson.  "  I  ain't  tellin'  you  that  they're  true, 
be  I  ?     I'm  only  givin'  you  the  story  as  I  got  it." 

"Who  was  his  mother?"  inquired  Uncle  Jack. 

"  You  tell,"  answered  the  scout.  "  Gilbert  himself 
ain't  got  nary  an  idee  of  it,  an'  Pete  says  she's  dead. 
Mebbe  she  is  and  mebbe  she  ain't.  Pete,  'cording  to 
his  own  tell,  uster  be  a  gentleman,  but  he  done 
something  that  the  lawyers  didn't  like,  an'  so  he  had 
to  come  out  yer.1' 

"  Where  does  Gilbert  live  ?  "  asked  the  captain. 

"Well,  when  he  lives  anywhars,  it's  down  to  the 
lower  agency  ;  but  he's   in  the  mountings,  mostly, 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  43 

'long  o'  that  pardner  of  liis'n.  An'  thar's  something 
mighty  queer  about  that  pardner  too,  same's  thai*  is 
about  Gilbert.  He  popped  up  all  on  a  sudden,  with- 
out tellin'  nobody  whar  he  come  from,  an'  him  an' 
Gilbert  has  stuck  together  ever  since." 

"  How  does  it  come  that  he  is  so  dandified  in  his 
dress?" 

"  Laws,  cap,  how  can  you  ax  that  question,  an'  you 
liviu' right  thar  at  the  post?  Thar  ain't  no  bigger 
dandies  in  the  States  than  thar  is  among  the  army 
officers  here  on  the  plains.  But  Gilbert  has  been 
down  to  the  Navajo  nation  a  time  or  two,  on  a  sort 
of  tradin'  expedition,  an'  course  he  seen  Mexikin 
Greasers  thar.  An'  then  the  women  folks  at  the  post 
give  him  the  fine  words  he  slings  about  so  reckless. 
He  talks  as  purty  as  a  pictur'  book,  don't  he  ?  " 

"Yes  ;  and  it  was  his  correct  English,  as  well  as 
his  appearance  that  made  me  take  an  interest  in  him. 
Why  does  he  stay  around  in  this  desolate  region?  I 
should  think  lie  would  prefer  to  live  in  the  city.  He 
looks  as  if  he  might  have  been  born  there." 

"  Well,  it's  a  kind  of  fool  notion  that  keeps  him 
around  the  agency,"  replied  the  scout.  "  He's  got  a 
kind  of  a  sneakin'  idee  that  he  knowed  other  people 
an'  other  things  afore  he  come  yer,  Gilbert  has,  an' 
that  there's  somebody  around  the  post  who  will  tell 
him  by  and  by  who  he  is,  an'  all  about  it ;  an'  he 
hangs  on  to  that  notion  spite  of  all  you  can  say  agin 
it.  He  ain't  by  no  means  the  only  one  who  holds  to 
it,  nutlier.  I  beared  the  agent  say,  with  my  own 
ears,  that  he'd  bet  thar  was  a  fortin'  wrapped  up  in 
that  thar  boy,  an'  that  thai*  was  somebody  somewhars 
who  would  give  money  to  know  whar  he  was.  An' 
blessed  if  I  don't  think  so,  too." 

All  this  while  a  stream  of  bullets  had  been  passing 
up  and  down  the  canyon  between  the  top  of  the  hill 
and  the  rude  fortifications  behind  which  the  cavalry- 


44  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

men  were  sheltered  ;  but  so  cautious  were  the  con- 
tending parties,  that  it  is  probable  that  their  well 
sustained  fire  resulted  in  nothing  more  serious  than 
a  useless  waste  of  ammunition.  It  is  certain  that 
there  were  no  more  casualties  among  the  soldiers 
and  their  allies. 

In  due  time  Gilbert  the  trapper  came  back,  accom- 
panied by  the  Pawnees  and  Uncle  Jack's  cowboy, 
whose  wounds  had  been  bathed  and  dressed  with 
herbs,  and  shortly  after  that  darkness  put  an  end  to 
the  conflict.  Then  guards  were  posted,  and  a  second 
party  was  sent  out,  under  the  guidance  of  the  young 
scout,  to  bring  in  a  supply  of  water. 

Those  who  were  left  behind  were  too  tired  to  await 
their  return.  Wrapping  their  blankets  about  them, 
they  lay  down  where  they  had  fought,  and  soon  sank 
into  a  deep  slumber.  Uncle  Jack  dreamed  of  Gilbert 
the  trapper,  but  he  did  not  dream  of  what  the  next 
day  was  destined  to  bring  forth. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  45 


CHAPTER  YII. 

THE    RENEGADE'S    STORY. 

Daylight  the  next  morning  found  Captain  Brent's 
men  in  motion,  and  as  scout  Robinson  Lad  predicted, 
they  marched  up  to  the  cap  rock  without  losing  any 
of  their  number.  There  was  no  enemy  there  to  op- 
pose them,  and  nothing  but  two  or  three  little  pools 
of  blood  to  show  that  the  Utes  Lad  suffered  at  all 
from  the  fire  which  the  soldiers  had  rained  upon 
them  for  so  many  hours.  Following  their  usual  cus- 
tom, they  had  carried  away  all  their  dead  and 
wrounded,  in  order  to  keep  them  from  falling  into  the 
hands  of  the  Pawnee  trailers,  who  would  have  re- 
moved their  scarps,  and  so  forever  shut  their  spirits 
out  of  the  happy  hunting  grounds. 

But  there  was  one  member  of  their  band  in  whose 
future  they  were  not  at  all  interested,  and  that  was 
the  renegade  who  had  been  knocked  off  the  summit 
of  the  cap  rock  by  a  shot  from  Uncle  Jack's  Win- 
chester. They  left  him  where  he  had  fallen,  paying 
no  heed  to  his  piteous  appeals  for  a  drop  of  water  to 
moisten  his  parched  lips.  If  he  Lad  been  an  Indian, 
tbey  would  Lave  risked  tLe  lives  of  a  dozen  of  their 
best  warriors  to  bring  him  to  a  place  of  safety  ;  but 
he  was  a  white  man,  and  a  very  contemptible  one  at 
that,  and  why  should  they  bother  their  heads  about 
him  ?  It  made  no  difference  to  them  whether  he  ever 
sawT  the  happy  hunting  grounds  or  not. 

For  long  hours  the   wretched  man  lay  among  the 


46  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

rocks,  and  there  he  was  eventually  discovered  by  the 
man  who  had  given  him  his  wound,  and  who  was  one 
of  the  skirmishers  sent  forward  by  Captain  Brent  to 
cover  the  advance  of  the  main  body  of  his  troops. 

Uncle  Jack's  first  thought  was  to  put  another  ball 
into  him  and  send  him  at  once  where  he  would  never 
again  take  part  in  an  Indian  outbreak  ;  but  the 
wounded  man  looked  up  at  him  so  imploringly  that 
the  old  fellow  relented,  and  the  rifle  which  he  had 
partly  drawn  to  his  face  fell  into  the  hollow  of  his 
arm  again. 

"  Water,  water  !  "  gasped  the  renegade. 

"  Ah,  yes  !  "  replied  Uncle  Jack,  fiercely.  "  Why 
didn't  you  think  of  this  before  you  come  out 
with  them  Utes  to  fight  agin  the  men  of  3rour  own 
race,  you  ugly  varmint?  There  wouldn't  be  half  this 
stealing  and  scalping  going  on  if  it  wasn't  for  the 
likes  of  you,  and  I  am  half  a  mind  to  crack  you  on 
the  head." 

A  stranger  would  have  thought,  from  the  way  he 
talked  and  acted,  that  he  was  fully  minded  to  do  it ; 
but  Uncle  Jack  wasn't  that  sort.  He  unslung  his 
canteen  and  handed  it  to  the  renegade,  who  raised  it 
to  his  lips  with  trembling  hands,  and  never  took  it 
away  again  until  the  last  drop  it  contained  had  been 
poured  down  his  burning  throat. 

"  There,  now,  you  white  Indian  !  "  exclaimed  Uncle 
Jack,  "  I  hope  you  feel  better.  Ain't  you  just  the 
least  bit  ashamed  of  yourself  ?  "  he  went  on,  shaking 
his  fist  at  the  prostrate  man.  "Your  red  friends 
have  run  off  and  left  you,  and  you  have  to  look  to 
them  that's  your  enemies  to  give  you  water,  you  fag- 
end  of  an  ill  spent  life.  B-r-r-r !  I  can  hardly  keep 
my  hands  off  you." 

"  You  needn't  take  on  that  way,  Uncle  Jack !  "  said 
the  wounded  man,  faintly. 

"  Hold   on,    there ! "    was    the   savage    rejoinder. 


GILBEKT  THE  TKAPPER.  47 

"  That  s  what  my  own  boys  call  me,  and  I  won't  lis- 
ten to  no  such  words  from  you.  You  ain't  lit  to  speak 
to  a  white  man." 

"  I  know  it.  I've  been  powerful  bad,  an'  I'd  like 
to  undo  some  of  my  meanness  before — before " 

"  I  know  it,"  interrupted  the  angry  cow  man  ; 
"  but  you  can't  undo  none  of  it.  Can  you  bring  back 
to  life  all  the  innocent  folks  that  have  been  killed 
during  the  outbreaks  that  you  and  your  kind  urged 
the  Indians  on  to  ?  Can  you  pick  old  man  Wilson's 
buildings  out  of  the  ashes,  and  set  'em  up  where 
they  were  when  the  Utes  jumped  down  on  them  a 
week  ago  last  Tuesday  ?  Then  hold  your  yawp  about 
undoing  your  meanness." 

"I  didn't  say  that  I  could  do  it  all,"  replied  the 
man,  in  a  feeble  voice.  "  But  I  can  straighten  out 
a  little  of  it — right  smart  of  it,  too.  I  can  put  some- 
body in  the  wa}-  of  findin'  a  boy  he  lost  years  ago. 
That's  something  to  do,  ain't  it?" 

"  Eh  ?  "  'cried  Uncle  Jack,  who  now  began  to  take 
some  interest  in  what  the  renegade  was  saying.  He 
looked  around  to  see  where  the  soldiers  were,  and 
then  sat  down  to  the  ground  close  to  the  wounded 
man,  so  that  he  could  hear  every  word  that  fell  from 
his  lips.  Why  was  it  that  the  handsome  face  and 
figure  of  Gilbert  the  trapper  came  before  his  vision? 

"  If  you  can  do  that,"  said  Uncle  Jack,  involun- 
tarily lowering  his  voice,  which  trembled  in  spite  of 
all  his  efforts  to  control  it,  "  you  will  do  much  to- 
ward making  a  friend  of  every  white  man  on  the 
reservation." 

"  Will  you  an'  your  outfit  stand  by  me  if  I  should 
happen  to  get  over  this  ?  " 

"  Why,  course,"  answered  Uncle  Jack,  who  could 
not  see  any  reason  why  he  should  need  anybody  to 
stand  by  him  as  long  as  he  was  trying  to  do  a  good 
act. 


48  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

"  'Cause  thar  is  tliem  that  don't  want  to  have  the 
boy  give  up,"  continued  the  renegade. 

"My  king !"  exclaimed  the  ranchman,  catching  up 
his  rifle  and  looking  all  around,  as  if  he  hoped  that 
the  guilty  ones  would  show  themselves  within  range 
of  the  weapon.     "  Who  be  they,  I'd  like  to  know  ?  " 

"  Well,  thar's  Grizzly  Pete  for  one." 

"  Pete  Axley !  "  cried  Uncle  Jack,  contemptuously. 
"  Say,  Bob,  what  makes  you  call  him  Grizzly  Pete? 
I  know  he  wears  a  necklace  of  bears'  claws,  but  he 
never  killed  the  bears  himself.  He  is  too  much  of  a 
coward  to  face  a  grizzly.  Well,  why  should  Pete 
want  to  keep  this  boy  from  being  given  up  to  them 
that  have  a  right  to  him?  Who  is  he,  anyhow,  and 
where  did  Pete  first  see  him  ?  " 

"  Nobody  knows  who  he  is,"  replied  the  renegade, 
tenderly  moving  one  of  his  legs,  which  had  been 
severely  bruised  by  his  fall.  "  We  found  him  up 
near  Three  Buttes  when  he  was  a  little  feller." 

"  Aw  !     Go  on!  "  exclaimed  Uncle  Jack. 

"  It's  the  livin'  truth,  if  I  ever  told  it,"  said  the 
man,  earnestly.  "  If  you  don't  want  to  b'lieve  it, 
look  at  that  when  you  get  the  chance.  Thar's  some 
papers  in  it— or,  I  should  say,  a  part  of  two  papers; 
and  one  of  'em  Pete  couldn't  read.  It's  Greek  or 
Dutch,  or  something.  So  he  cut  the  papers  in  two, 
Pete  did,  an'  give  me  a  piece  of  each,  an'  he  took 
t'other  ones.  He  done  that  so't  each  one  of  us  would 
have  something  to  show,  an'  nary  one  of  us  could  do 
anything  t'wards  givin'  up  the  boy  without  help 
from  the  other." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Uncle  Jack.  "  You  were  both 
such  rascals,  that  you  were  afraid  to  trust  each  other. 
Look  here;  you  and  Pete  and  the  Utes  robbed  a 
wagon  train  and  stole  that  boy." 

"  Hope  to  die  if  we  did,"  answered  the  renegade, 
"The  Cheyennes  jumped  at  it  an'  killed  all  the  men 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  49 

that  was  with  it,  an'  we  come  up  an'  drove  them  off, 
after  fightin'  'em  for  two  days.  You  know  thar 
wasn't  so  many  posts  an'  agencies  in  the  country 
thirteen  years  ago  as  thar  be  now,  an'  as  we  didn't 
want  to  see  the  boy  killed,  me  an'  Pete  thought  we 
would  keep  him  till  he  growed  up;  an'  then  mebbe 
he  could  tell  us  who  his  folks  was,  an'  whar  they 
lived." 

"  That's  a  likely  story,"  replied  Uncle  Jack,  looking 
down  at  the  big  tin  tobacco  box  which  the  renegade 
had  placed  in  his  hands.  Then  he  opened  it,  and 
saw  that  it  appeared  to  be  filled  with  strips  of  buck- 
skin.    "  There's  nothing  here,"  he  added. 

"Yes,  thar  is,"  protested  the  renegade.  "The 
papers  that'll  tell  you  who  the  boy  is,  an'  all  about 
it,  are  wrapped  up  in  them  skins.  I  know,  'cause 
they  ain't  never  been  out  of  my  hands  since  I  got 
'em.  I've  had  'em  out  of  the  box  a  time  or  two,  to 
see  if  I  couldn't  make  something  out  of  the  writin' 
that's  on  'em,  but  I  never  con  Id." 

"Well,  after  you  and  the  Utes  drove  the  Cheyennes 
away,  you  went  up  and  robbed  the  train  yourselves, 
I  suppose  ?  I  thought  so.  Didn't  you  find  anybody 
with  it  who  could  tell  you  who  this  boy  was  and 
where  he  belonged  ?  " 

"Nary  livin'  soul,"  was  the  answer.  "Every  man 
of  'em  had  been  rubbed  out  by  the  Cheyennes,  an'  it 
was  their  woopin'  an'  yellin'  that  brung  us  up  to 
whar  the  fight  was  goin'  on." 

"  How  big  was  the  boy  ?  Could  he  talk  and  tell 
what  his  name  was  ?  " 

"He  was  about  three  or  four  years  old,  but  all  he 
could  tell  me  an'  Pete,  that  we  could  understand, 
was  that  one  of  the  men  who  had  been  killed  by  the 
Cheyennes  was  his  pap." 

"  Then  how  did  you  think  that  he  was  going  to  tell 
you    his    history  when    he  got    bigger?"  demanded 


50  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

Uncle  Jack,  in  a  tone  of  undisguised  contempt. 
"  Here  you've  been  and  kept  him  among  the  Indians 
all  these  years,  and  of  course  he's  forgot  everything 
about  himself  that  he  ever  knew.  You  ought  to 
have  taken  him  straight  to  the  nearest  post,  and  I 
don't  see  why  }^ou  didn't  do  it." 

When  Uncle  Jack  said  this,  he  did  not  have  quite 
as  much  regard  for  the  truth  as  he  usually  did.  He 
knew  very  well  why  the  Utes  did  not  give  up  that 
boy.  They  wanted  to  keep  him,  and  bring  him  for- 
ward as  an  element  in  their  peace  negotiations. 

The  terms  on  which  discontented  Indians  are  per- 
mitted to  return  to  their  reservations  are  never  very 
hard  when  they  have  in  their  possession  any  white 
captives  whom  they  are  willing  to  deliver  up.  The 
officers  who  conduct  these  negotiations  are  so  very 
anxious  to  release  the  prisoners  from  a  bondage  that 
is  worse  than  death,  that  they  will  agree  to  almost 
anything  the  savages  have  to  propose.  As  it  hap- 
pened, the  Utes  did  not  need  the  boy,  and  he  was 
with  them  yet.  At  least  that  was  what  Uncle  Jack 
thought. 

"  You  say  you  found  this  boy  thirteen  years  ago  ?  " 
said  the  cow  man.  "Then  he  must  be  sixteen  or 
seventeen  now,  if  he  was  three  or  four  when  you  first 
got  a  grip  on  him.  Don't  you  think  I  ought  to 
knock  you  in  the  head  ?  " 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  you  why  we  didn't  give  him  up, 
Uncle " 

"  Hold  on.  Now,  I  don't  want  to  hear  them  words 
out  of  you  again,"  said  Uncle  Jack,  shaking  both  his 
fists  at  the  renegade. 

"  I  forget ;  I  do  for  a  fact.  I'll  tell  you  why  we 
didn't  give  him  up  to  the  commanding  officer  of  some 
post,  an'  I'll  be  honest  with  you,  too." 

"Yes;  you'd  better,"  said  the  ranchman,  fiercely. 
"  We've  got  some  of  Turkey  Leg's  Pawnees  with  us, 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  51 

and  they  wouldn't  like  anything   better  than  to  raise 
that  hair  of  yours." 

"  I  know  it,  an'  that's  the  reason  I  am  mighty  glad 
I  was  found  by  a  white  man,"  said  the  renegade,  anx- 
iously.    "  If  some   of  them   Pawnees  had    come  up 
afore  you  did,  ]   never  would  have  told  you  what  I 
ave. 

"And  I  can't  understand  why  you  tell  it  to  me 
now,"  said  the  ranchman. 

"  It's  cause  I  thought  I  was  as  good  as  dead,  an'  I 
didn't  want  to  go  with  that  thing  on  my  mind  ;  that's 
why.  I  would  have  given  them  dokyments  to  some- 
body long  ago,  but  Pete  swore  that  he'd  be  the  death 
of  me  if  I  did,  an'  so  I  had  to  hold  fast  to  'em  an' 
keep  my  mouth  shet.  When  you  read  one  of  them 
papers,  you  will  see  that  thar's  something  in  it  about 
a  hundred  nuggets  and  a  fortin'.  He  made  a  cache 
afore  he  was  killed,  the  boy's  pap  did,  an'  them 
papers  tell  whar  it  is  an'  what's  into  it.  Pete's  made 
me  try  to  pump  the  boy  a  time  or  two,  to  see  if  he  re- 
membered anything  about  that  cache,  but  all  I  made 
out  to  do  wras  to  make  the  boy  suspicion  something. 
He  knows  that  he  don't  b'long  here  as  well  as  I  do, 
an'  so  does  evervbody  down  to  the  lower  reserva- 
tion." 

"  What  is  his  name  ?  "  inquired  Uncle  Jack. 

"  Gilbert  the  trapper*" 


52  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  END    OF   THE    CAMPAIGN. 

The  last  words  that  fell  from  the  renegade's  lips 
almost  took  Uncle  Jack's  breath  away,  and  yet  he  had 
all  the  while  been  expecting  to  hear  him  speak  that 
name  before  he  got  through  with  the  story. 

"  Gilbert  the  trapper,"  repeated  the  cow  man. 
"  That's  a  mighty  slim  clew  to  go  on.  Wasn't  there 
some  name  signed  to  them  papers  when  you  got  'em 
— Smith  or  Jones  or  something  ?  " 

"Yes,  thar  was,  but  I  disremember  it.  Pete  took 
the  pieces  that  had  the  name  onto  'em,  an'  he's  got 
'em  now.  He  ain't  never  told  anybody  what  that 
is,  an'  he  says  he  ain't  goin'  to." 

'•  What  for  ?  "  demanded  Uncle  Jack.  "  How's  the 
boy  to  get  a  clew  to  his  identity,  or  how  are  his 
friends  going  to  find  anything  about  him  so  long 
as  his  name  is  not  known?  Pete  is  acting  like  a 
born  fool." 

"  That's  what  I  think  an'  what  I  have  said,  I 
don't  rightly  know  jest  what  notion  Pete's  got  into 
his  head,  but  between  you  and  I,  I  kinder  suspicion 
that  him  an'  the  trader  down  to  the  lower  reserva- 
tion has  gone  snucks  in  the  business,  an'  that  the 
trader  is  trying  to  study  out  the  Dutch  part  of  them 
papers,  or  Greek,  or  whatever  it  is.  If  he  succeeds, 
him  an'  Pete  will  look  the  mountings  over  till  they 
find  that  cache,  an'  they'll  dig  up  the  fortin'  and  skip 
out,  leavin'  me  to  whistle  for  my  shar'." 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPEK.  53 

"  Aha  !  "  exclaimed  Uncle  Jack.  "  I  thought  you 
had  some  object  in  view  in  giving  these  papers  up  to 
me.  You  don't  want  Pete  to  cheat  you  out  of  your 
share  of  that  fortune,  do  you?  "Well,  I  don't  know 
that  I  blame  you.  But  Pete  shan't  find  that  cache, 
'cause  I've  got  half  the  papers." 

"I  know  it;  but  Pete  an'  the  trader  have  got  a 
copy  of  'em.     You  see " 

"  There  now  ?  "  exclaimed  the  ranchman,  in  a  tone 
of  disgust.  "  If  Pete  is  one  fool,  you're  another. 
"What  did  you  go  and  give  him  a  copy  of  these 
papers  for  ?  " 

"  'Cause  he  vowed  that  he'd  ruinate  me  if  I  didn't," 
whined  the  renegade.  "You  don't  know  Grizzly 
Pete  as  well  as  I  do.  An'  the  trader's  a  bad  man, 
too.  They  will  do  anything  for  money,  them  two 
will,  an'  if  you're  goin'  to  stand  between  them  an' 
that  fortin',  you'd  better  watch  out  that  they  don't 
pop  you  over  the  first  good  chance  they  get." 

"I  ain't  the  coward  that  you  be,  Buckskin  Bob," 
answered  Uncle  Jack,  calmly.  "  If  they  fool  with  me, 
I'll  make  them  think  they've  been  struck  by  light- 
ning. You  think  that  this  boy,  Gilbert  the  trapper,  be- 
longs to  the  money  that's  hid  in  that  cache,  do  you?  " 

':I  know  it;  'cause  arter  Pete  had  read  the  paper 
— the  English  one  I  mean — he  asked  the  boy  whar 
the  place  was  that  his  pap  had  buried  the  money, 
an'  he  tried  his  best  to  show  us.  He  put  his  little 
hands  in  our'n " 

"  You — you — varmint !  "  ejaculated  Uncle  Jack, 
who  could  not  think  of  any  name  mean  enough  to 
fit  the  contemptible  specimen  of  humanity  that  lay 
groaning  and  writhing  among  the  rocks  before  him. 
"You  Digger  Indian — you  coyote — you — " 

"  But  in  course  he  couldn't  show  us  whar  the  cache 
was,"  said  the  renegade,  hastily;  "'cause  he  was  too 
little  to  remember  any  landmarks.     Pete  thinks  he 


54  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

lias  forgot  all  about  it,  but  I  don't.  Thar's  some- 
thing in  the  glint  of  his  eye  when  he  looks  at  me, 
which  tells  me  that  he's  got  an  idee  or  two  stowed 
away  in  that  head  of  his'n,  an'  that  he'll  tell  what 
that  idee  is  when  the  right  man  comes  along.  Oh, 
Uncle  Jack !  Uncle  Jack !  don't  let  'em  skulp  me ! 
I've  got  a  heap  more  to  tell  you.     Send  'em  away." 

With  a  mighty  effort  the  wounded  renegade  raised 
himself  upon  his  elbow,  and  pointed  with  a  trembling 
finger  at  something  behind  Uncle  Jack.  His  eyes 
seemed  ready  to  start  from  their  sockets,  and  his 
repulsive  features  were  convulsed  with  terror. 

The  ranchman  faced  about  and  saw  a  couple  of 
Pawnees  in  their  war  paint  standing  near.  They 
grinned  at  each  other,  laid  their  rifles  upon  the 
ground  and  whipped  their  knives  from  their  sheaths. 
In  an  instant  Uncle  Jack  was  on  his  feet. 

"  Hold  on,  there  !  "  he  shouted,  drawing  back  the 
hammer  of  his  Winchester.  "You  can't  have  this 
fellow's  hair,  'cause  he  ain't  dead  yet.  He  ain't  a 
going  to  die  yet,  neither,  'cause  he's  got  to  live  and 
make  amends  for  the  meanest  act  that  a  man  with  a 
white  skin  was  ever  guilty  of.  You  git,  or  I'll  start 
you  for  the  happy  hunting  grounds  in  less'n  two 
seconds." 

"  That's  the  way  to  talk  to  'em,  Uncle  Jack,"  said 
the  renegade,  who  was  so  nearly  overcome  with  fear 
that  he  could  scarcely  speak  the  words  so  that  they 
could  be  understood.     "  Send  'em  away,  Uncle " 

"Hold  your  yawp!  "  interrupted  the  ranchman,  in 
savage  tones.  "  If  you  call  me  that  again,  I'll  let  'em 
onto  you.  Are  you  going  to  be  a  gitting?  Hallo, 
Rube,"  be  added,  addressing  himself  to  one  of  his 
cowboys,  who,  hearing  his  employer's  voice  pitched 
in  a  high  key,  came  up  to  see  what  was  the  matter 
with  him.  "  Go  and  tell  Cap'n  Brent,  that  there's  a 
v/ounded  man  here  who  wants  to  be  sent  back  to  the 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  55 

post.     Tell  him,  also,  that  he'll  have  to  put  a  guard 
over  him,  for  if  he  don't " 

Uncle  Jack  finished  the  sentence  by  jerking  his 
thumb  over  his  shoulder  toward  the  two  baffled 
Pawnees,  who  were  scowling  fiercely  at  the  speaker. 

Rube  took  one  glance  at  the  wounded  renegade's 
face  and  then  scowled,  too. 

"Why  don't  you  let  the  Injuns  alone?"  he  mut- 
tered. 

"  'Cause  I  don't  want  to,  that's  why,"  retorted 
Uncle  Jack.  "  I  want  to  use  him  ;  and  when  you 
know  what  I  want  to  use  him  for,  you'll  say  that  I 
do  right  in  keeping  the  reds  away  from  him.  Go  on, 
Rube,  and  do  as  I  tell  you." 

The  cowboy  walked  off,  talking  to  himself  in  an 
undertone,  but  he  did  not  move  with  a  willing  step. 
If  he  had  been  the  first  to  find  Buckskin  Bob— well, 
he  wouldn't  have  given  him  a  drink  of  water,  as 
Uncle  Jack  did. 

"  Them  white  Injuns  and  the  thieving  agents  and 
traders  are  to  blame  for  all  our  border  troubles,  and 
I  don't  see  why  old  Waldron  don't  let  the  Pawnees 
finish  him  ;  that's  what  I'd  do,"  said  Rube,  to  him- 
self ;  but  he  lost  no  time  in  hunting  up  Captain 
Brent.  He  delivered  his  message,  and  a  squad  of 
men  was  sent  to  remove  the  renegade  from  his 
hard  bed  among  the  rocks,  and  stand  guard  over 
him  until  he  and  a  few  sick  men  could  be  sent  to 
Fort  Lewis,  in  company  with  Uncle  Jack's  cowboy. 

The  two  Pawnees  slunk  away  out  of  sight  when 
the  corporal  and  his  soldiers  came  up,  while  Uncle 
Jack  put  the  tin  box  into  his  pocket  and  hurried  off 
to  find  his  place  in  the  skirmish  line. 

He  looked  everywhere  for  Gilbert  the  trapper,  but 
that  worthy  object  of  his  solicitude  could  not  be 
found.  He  certainly  was  not  with  the  command,  and 
no  one  had  seen  him  go  away.     He  had  vanished 


56  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

from  sight  in  the  same  mysterious  way  that  he  had 
first  made  his  appearance  between  the  lines.  Just 
then  the  bugle  sounded,  and  Uncle  Jack  mounted 
his  horse  with  the  others,  and  rode  down  the  canyon 
in  the  direction  in  which  the  Utes  had  fled. 

"  There's  one  thing  about  it,"  he  kept  saying  to 
himself.  "  I  know  where  to  find  Gilbert  when  I 
want  him  ;  but  I  must  first  find  out  what  is  written 
on  these  papers.  If  it  is  written  in  Greek,  I've  got 
the  inside  of  the  track,  because  my  boys  are  the  only 
ones  in  this  country  that  I  knoAV  of  who  are  posted 
in  that  language  ;  but  if  it's  Dutch,  then  I'm  up  a 
hollow  stump.  I  never  heard  'em  say  a  word  about 
studying  Dutch  at  school." 

Although  Uncle  Jack  was  impatient  to  examine  the 
contents  of  the  box  that  Buckskin  Bob  had  given 
him,  he  never  took  it  out  of  his  pocket  during  the 
whole  of  the  campaign,  which  lasted  a  little  over 
four  weeks.  During  that  time  he  and  his  com- 
panions, according  to  Captain  Brent's  report,  traveled 
over  two  hundred  miles.  They  joined  their  forces 
with  Major  Payne's,  but  they  never  once  came  within 
striking  distance  of  the  hostiles. 

The  latter  were  a  mountain  tribe  (some  writer  has 
called  them  the  Switzers  of  America),  and  being  w-ell 
acquainted  with  the  country,  they  clung  persistently 
to  the  most  difficult  trails,  traveled  by  night  as  well 
as  by  day,  and  at  last  threw  their  pursuers  entirely 
off  their  track,  and  made  their  way  back  to  their  res- 
ervation. When  they  got  there  they  wrere  safe,  as  I 
shall  presently  explain. 

Heartily  disgusted  wdth  the  results  of  their  long 
and  arduous  campaign,  the  ranchmen  separated  at 
the  lower  agency  and  turned  their  faces  toward  their 
respective  homes,  Uncle  Jack  and  his  cowboys,  with 
Mr.  Wilson  and  his  cowboys,  stopping  at  Fort  Lewis 
long  enough  to  pick  up  the  four  youngsters. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  57 

The  meeting  between  Mr.  Wilson  and  his  boys  was 
so  affecting  that  the  herdsmen  did  not  care  to  wit- 
ness it,  and  even  Gus  and  Jerry  Warren  somewhat 
abated  the  ardor  of  the  greeting  they  extended  to 
their  uncle.  They  were  overjoyed  to  see  him  again, 
safe  and  sound,  and  not  a  little  disappointed  when 
the  old  fellow  declared  that  he  had  not  another  word 
to  tell  them. 

"But  you  haven't  told  us  anything  yet,"  exclaimed 
Gus.  "  You  haven't  said  a  word  about  the  fight,  and 
we  know  you  had  one,  because  some  of  Captain 
Brent's  sick  men  were  sent  back  to  the  post,  and  they 
told  us  so." 

"  Did  they  tell  you  about  that  cowboy  of  ours  who 
was  wounded  and  sent  home  at  the  same  time  ?  "  said 
Uncle  Jack.  "  Then  you  know  as  much  about  the 
fight  as  I  do," 

'•Who  was  that  brave  young  fellow  who  saved 
the  cowboy's  life  at  the  risk  of  his  own  ?"  inquired 
Jerry. 

"  You  tell.     I  never  saw  or  heard  of  him  before." 
"The  soldiers  didn't  know   him  either  ;  and  yet 
they  say  he  belongs  on  this  reservation.     Say,  uncle, 
is  it  a  fact  that  those  Utes  will  never  be  punished  for 
burning  Mr.  Wilson's  house  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  fact,"  said  the  owner  of  that  name,  who 
happened  to  overhear  the  question,  "  and  a  most  dis- 
graceful fact,  too.  If  one  of  those  TJtes  had  toma- 
hawked and  scalped  my  boys  before  my  eyes,  and  I 
had  been  able  to  point  him  out  to  the  agent,  he 
wouldn't  have  said  a  word  to  him  ;  but  let  me  or  any 
other  white  man  lift  a  finger  against  one  of  those 
Indians,  and  that  same  agent  would  hunt  the  coun- 
try over  to  find  me." 

"Why  that  isn't  right,"  said  Gus  and  Jerry  in  a 

breath. 

"But  it's   the  law  we  have  here   on  the  plains, 


68  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

whether  it's  right  or  not,"  replied  Mr.  Wilson  with 
suppressed  fury.  "  The  agent  cares  more  for  an 
Indian  than  he  does  for  a  white  man,  because  there 
is  money  in  him.  Our  whole  Indian  business  is  a 
cheat  and  a  swindle,  from  beginning  to  end.  These 
Utes  are  too  sharp  to  commit  any  crime  on  their  re- 
servation, because  they  know  that  they  would  be 
punished  for  it;  but  they  can  break  away  and  do  all 
the  damage  they  please,  and  there  is  no  one  to  take 
any  notice  of  it,  except  those  who  suffer  at  their 
hands.  I  say  such  a  government  as  ours  ought  not 
to  stand  a  day  longer.  I'd  be  glad  to  see  it  go  dowrn 
this  minute." 

Mr.  Wilson  did  not  mean  this,  of  course,  for  he 
was  as  loyal  as  any  man  on  the  frontier;  but  Uncle 
Jack  saw  that  he  was  getting  angry,  so  he  turned  the 
conversation  into  another  channel  by  asking  Gus 
how  he  had  enjoyed  himself  during  his  forced  so- 
journ at  the  fort. 

"  I  don't  think  I  should  like  to  be  a  second  lieu- 
tenant in  the  army,"  was  the  boy's  reply.  "  Life  at 
an  Indian  post  is  awful  slow,  according  to  my  way 
of  looking  at  it,  and  some  of  the  jroung  officers  them- 
selves say  that  they  are  sick  of  it.  Of  course  they 
can  fish  and  hunt  when  they  are  off  duty,  but  one 
soon  gets  tired  of  fishing  and  hunting.  A  cowbo}r 
leads  a  harder  life  than  a  lieutenant  of  infantry, 
but  then  he  has  something  to  occup3r  his  mind." 

Uncle  Jack  said  that  was  ajjout  the  way  he  looked 
at  it. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  59 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    MYSTERIOUS   DOCUMENTS. 

Gus  and  Jerry  Warren  had  passed  a  weary  month 
at  the  fort.  Although  they  received  some  cheering 
message  from  Uncle  Jack  as  often  as  a  courier  came 
in,  they  could  not  help  worrying  over  his  prolonged 
absence.  To  make  matters  worse,  the  colonel  com- 
manding the  force  was  informed  that  the  Indians  on 
ihe  lower  reservation  had  broken  away  and  set  out 
for  the  mountains  to  join  the  hostiles,  and  some  of 
the  timid  ones  took  this  as  an  indication  that  there 
was  going  to  be  an  open  war,  sure  enough. 

"  But  I  don't  think  so,  and  I  don't  believe  that 
the  colonel  does,  either,"  said  one  of  the  young  lieu- 
tenants, who  had  taken  Gus  and  Jerry  under  his 
special  protection.  "  Payne  and  Brent  are  both  old 
Indian  fighters,  and  if  they  can  join  forces  they  will 
press  the  hostiles  so  closely  that  they  will  not  have 
time  to  send  out  detached  parties  to  pillage  the  de- 
fenseless ranches  that  lie  along  their  line  of  flight. 
Another  thing,  winter  is  coming  on  apace,  and  the 
Utes  will  not  care  to  stay  in  the  mountains  till  the 
snow  comes  and  block  the  canyons  and  shut  them  up 
there.  They  prefer  their  weather  proof  tepees  and 
the  flesh  pots  of  the  agency,  to  a  brush  '  wicky  up' 
and  an  empty  larder  among  the  storm  swept  foot 
hills.  An  Indian  is  very  sensitive  to  cold,  and  he 
would   not  show   his   nose  outside  his  wigwam  in 


60  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

winter  if  there   was  any  possible   way   for   him  to 
avoid  it." 

As  if  to  show  the  young  officer  that  he  was  mis- 
taken when  he  made  these  confident  predictions,  a 
lieutenant  arrived  the  very  next  day  bringing  full 
details  of  Captain  Brent's  fight  in  the  canyon,  and 
some  other  news  that  struck  terror  to  the  hearts  of 
the  city  boys.  Uncle  Jack's  wounded  cowboy  had 
died  on  the  way  home,  and  the  soldiers  had  buried 
him  in  the  mountains.  The  men  around  them  did 
not  seem  to  think  much  of  it.  They  simply  said: 
"Poor  Aleck!"  and  then  forgot  all  about  him;  but 
that  was  not  the  case  with  Gus  and  Jerry.  To  them 
there  was  something  horrifying  in  the  reflection  that 
the  man  in  whose  company  they  had  ridden,  hunted 
and  fished,  and  who  had  more  than  once  slept  under 
the  same  blanket  with  them,  had  been  stricken 
down  by  an  Indian's  bullet. 

"  Well,  what  else  could  he  expect  ?  "  said  Lieuten- 
ant Forrest,  their  friend  and  mentor.  "  He  took  his 
chances  with  the  rest,  and  somebody  generally  gets 
hurt  in  a  fight.  Besides,  he  had  no  business  to 
march  so  far  ahead  of  the  Pawnees,  after  he  had  been 
told  that  it  was  dangerous  to  do  so.  But  that's  al- 
ways the  way  with  these  cowboys.  They  are  good 
in  a  fight,  but  they  don't  obey  orders  worth  a  cent." 

"  Uncle  Jack  will  be  sorry  when  he  hears  of  it," 
said  Gus.  "  He  thought  a  good  deal  of  Aleck.  He 
expected  to  leave  Uncie  Jack's  employ  at  the  end  of 
the  year  and  set  up  for  himself  ;  and  uncle  was  help- 
ing him  in  every  way  he  could." 

"  Of  course  he'll  be  sorry  ;  so  am  I,"  said  Forrest. 
"But  we  don't  worry  over  things  that  we  can't  help. 
Just  think  what  would  have  happened  to  him  after 
dark,  if  that  young  fellow  in  buckskin  hadn't  crawled 
up  between  the  lines  and  carried  him  to  a  place  of 
safety ! " 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  61 

"  What  would  have  happened  to  him  ?  "  inquired 
Jerry, 

"  Why,  the  Utes  would  have  been  down  after  his 
scalp,  and  they  wouldn't  have  troubled  themselves  to 
see  whether  he  was  dead  or  not  before  they  took  it 
off." 

"Don't,  don't!  "  exclaimed  Gus.  "It's  too  awful 
to  think  of." 

"  Well,  that's  the  way  they  do,  anyhow,"  said  For- 
rest, doggedly.  "But  I  won't  talk  about  it  any 
more.  I've  seen  the  chap  who  saved  Aleck's  scalp, 
and  I  tell  you  he's  a  picture — smarter  than  a  whip, 
and  talks  like  a  magazine  article.  You  ought  to  see 
him  ride  and  shoot." 

"Who  is  he?"  asked  Gus. 

"  Nobody  knows  for  certain  ;  but  there's  a  story 
floating  around  that  he's  the  only  one  left  of  a  wagon 
train  tliat  the  Utes  destroyed  years  ago.  He  lives 
among  the  Indians,  but  he  is  as  white  as  you  or  I. 
Grizzly  Pete,  who  is  one  of  the  meanest  squaw  men 
on  the  reservation,  says  that  the  boy  is  his  son  ;  but 
he  can't  make  any  one  believe  it.  Gilbert  isn't  a 
renegade  either.  He  has  been  in  more  than  a  dozen 
fights,  and  he  always  sides  with  us.  He  saved  the 
Durango  stage  from  being  held  up  about  a  year 
ago." 

"  Held  up  ?  "  said  Jerry,  inquiringly. 

"Yes  ;  robbed,  you  know.  If  you  will  remind  me 
of  it,  I  will  tell  you  the  story  the  next  time  I  can  get 
a  day  off." 

After  that  the  only  news  the  couriers  brought  to 
the  post  was  that  Major  Payne  and  Captain  Brent, 
having  united  their  forces,  were  hotly  pursuing  the 
Utes,  who  were  evidently  making  the  best  of  their 
way  to  their  reservation.  No  one  seemed  to  know 
when  they  got  there,  so  quietly  did  they  disperse  and 
mingle  with  their  friends. 


62  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

And  that  was  the  last  of  it.  There  was  no  recom- 
pense of  any  sort  for  the  man  whose  property  had 
been  wantonly  destroyed  and  whose  little  boys  were 
at  first  thought  to  have  been  carried  into  captivity, 
and  no  one  to  drop  a  tear  upon  the  lonely  grave  of 
the  murdered  cowboy. 

"Til  tell  you  what's  a  fact,  Jerry,"  said  Gus  ;  "I 
don't  blame  these  men  for  hating  the  Indians  so  cor- 
dially. I  don't  see  how  they  can  endure  the  sight 
of  one," 

A  day  or  two  after  this  the  boys  were  surprised  to 
see  Mr.  Wilson  and  Uncle  Jack  ride  into  the  fort. 
Their  appearance  was  the  first  positive  indication 
they  had  received  that  the  campaign  was  at  an  end. 
They  knew  that  the  Indians  were  coming  back,  and 
that  was  all. 

After  thanking  the  officers  for  the  care  the}7  had 
taken  of  their  boys  during  their  absence,  the  ranch- 
men and  their  cowboys  turned  their  faces  homeward. 
Mr.  Wilson  accepted  Uncle  Jack's  hospitality  for  the 
night,  but  bright  and  early  the  next  morning  he  and 
his  two  sons  set  out  for  their  own  range.  It  was  a 
dreary  place  they  were  going  to,  with  no  roof  to 
shelter  them,  and  no  one  but  rough  cowboys  to  ex- 
tend a  welcome  to  them,  but  they  did  not  seem  to 
mind  it  very  much. 

"  I  don't  think  I  could  ever  go  back  there  if  the 
Utes  had  taken  my  boys  away  from  me,"  said  Mr. 
Wilson  as  he  shook  Uncle  Jack's  hand  at  parting. 
"  I  haven't  lost  much  besides  my  buildings,  and  if 
the  snows  will  delay  their  coming  just  one  month, 
thej7  will  find  me  with  a  tight  shanty  over  my 'bead 
and  grub  enough  in  the  cupboard  to  feed  you  and 
your  nephews  as  often  as  you  can  make  it  convenient 
to  pay  me  a  visit.  Good  by,  and  may  it  be  long  be- 
fore these  thieving  rascals  come  your  way." 

"  That's  what  a  fellow  gets  lor  being  a  cow  man," 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  63 

said  Uncle  Jack,  as  his  friend  rode  away.  "But 
Wilson  won't  take  warning  by  it.  He  would  keep 
right  along  just  the  same,  even  if  he  knew  that  the 
Utes  make  a  business  of  raiding  him  every  year.  I 
don't  know  how  it  is  with  you  two,"  he  added,  clos- 
ing the  door  and  drawing  his  big  rocking  chair  up 
in  front  of  the  huge  fireplace,  "  but  I  am  glad  to  get 
home.  I  have  seen  the  time  when  I  took  positive  de- 
light in  a  scout  after  hostilities,  but  I  was  younger 
then  than  I  am  now.  I  ain't  quite  as  peart  and  live- 
ly as  I  used  to  be,  and  twenty  eight  days  at  a  stretch 
in  the  saddle  pretty  nigh  uses  me  up.  So  poor 
Aleck  is  gone  where  we  shall  have  to  go  some  day." 

"  But  we  don't  want  to  go  that  way,"  said  Jerry, 
with  a  shudder. 

"Well,  no  ;  but  that's  something  in  which  we  shall 
not  be  consulted  when  our  time  comes.  We'd  rather 
go  quicker." 

"  Think  how  he  must  have  suffered,  in  mind  as 
well  as  in  body  while  he  lay  there  behind  that  rock, 
expecting  every  minute  that  the  Utes  would  be  down 
to  complete  their  work  "  added  Jerry. 

"  And  think  how  Uncle  Jack  and  the  rest  must 
have  felt  to  see  him  lying  in  plain  sight,  wdiile  they 
were  powerless  to  help  him,"  chimed  in  Gkis.  "I  tell 
you  that  would  have  tried  my  courage  most  severely, 
and  I  am  glad  I  wasn't  there  to  see  it.  I  can't  un- 
derstand how  that  young  fellow  in  buckskin  could 
help  him  when  you  couldn't." 

"  I  can  explain  it  to  you  in  a  few  words,"  replied 
Uncle  Jack.  "  Between  our  line  and  the  foot  of  the 
hill  there  was  a  space  about  one  hundred  and  fifty 
yards  in  width,  where  there  wasn't  the  least  sign  of 
cover  of  any  sort.  The  swiftest  runner  among  us 
couldn't  have  got  across  it  without  being  hit.  When 
that  young  scout,  who  came  from  Payne's  command, 
slipped  by  the  hill  he  was  two  hundred  yards  closer 


64  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

to  the  Utes  than  we  were,  and  right  in  among-  the 
bowlders  that  afforded  him  the  best  kind  of  shelter. 
See  ?  But  it  was  a  brave  act  on  his  part  all  the 
same.  Aleck  deserved  to  have  his  life  when  that 
scout  worked  so  hard  for  it.  Say,  Gus,  can  you  read 
Greek  or  Dutch  ?  " 

The  boys  were  so  surprised  at  this  sudden  change 
of  subject  that  they  looked  at  their  uncle  without 
speaking. 

"  Oh,  I  mean  it,"  said  the  latter,  putting  his  hand 
into    his   pocket  and   pulling  out  the  tobacco   box 
that  Buckskin  Bob  had  given  him.     "Can  you  read 
em  i 

Gus  replied  that  he  could  not,  adding  that  there 
was  not  the  least  similarity  between  the  two  lan- 
guages. 

"  Don't  you  study  Greek  at  school  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  do ;  but  that's  no  sign  that  I  can  cor- 
rectly translate  any  sentence  you  can  give  me,  is  it  ? 
I  tell  you  it  takes  a  scholar  to  do  that,  and  I  am  only 
a  student.     What  have  you  got  there  ?  " 

"  Nothing  that  is  likely  to  do  anybody  any  good," 
replied  Uncle  Jack,  who  was  plainly  very  much  dis- 
appointed. "  When  he  gave  it  to  me  and  told  me, 
that  neither  he  nor  anybody  else  could  read  it 
because " 

"  When  who  gave  it  to  you  ?  "  interrupted  Jerry. 

"  Because  it  was  Greek  or  Dutch  or  something,  I 
was  quick  enough  to  take  it,  for  I  was  sure  you  could 
help  me  out  with  it,"  said  Uncle  Jack,  paying  no 
attention  to  his  nephew's  question.  "You  study 
Greek  at  school,  you  say  ?  Well,  you  are  wasting 
3'our  time  fooling  with  a  thing  you  can't  remember. 
But  there's  just  this  much  about  it:  I'll  block  Pete 
Axley's  little  game,  I  bet  you." 

"  Who  is  Pete  Axley,  and  what  game  is  he  up  to  ?  " 
asked  both  the  boys. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  65 

Uncle  Jack  shook  Lis  head,  and  began  slowly  and 
carefully  unrolling  the  several  pieces  of  buckskin  in 
which  the  renegade  had  inclosed  the  precious 
papers  that  had  so  long  found  a  hiding  place  in  his 
dirty  haversack. 

Gus  and  Jerry  watched  him  curiously,  but  he  was 
so  very  deliberate  about  his  work,  that  they  finally 
found  it  impossible  to  restrain  themselves  any  longer; 
so  they  tried  to  hurry  him  up. 

"  Why  don't  you  tell  us  what  you've  got  there  ?  " 
said  Gus.  "If  it  is  anything  with  writing  on  it,  you 
may  be  sure  that  the  characters  are  obliterated  by 
this  time.  Those  pieces  of  buckskin  look  as  though 
they  had  not  been  unrolled  since  the  year  one." 

That  was  true;  but  like  some  other  misty  things, 
they  contained  a  valuable  secret. 


66  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE   LETTER   FROM    SWEETWATER   CANYON. 

"They're  wrapped  up  mighty  careful,  aint  they?" 
said  Uncle  Jack,  when  he  was  ready  to  speak.  "  I 
hope  when  I  get  to  the  inside  I  shall  find  two  papers 
there.  They  were  written  thirteen  years  ago,  and  I 
don't  suppose  that  we  could  make  head  or  tail  of 
'em,  even  if  they  were  both  written  in  English  ;  for, 
as  you  say,  the  characters  must  be  almost  obliterated 
by  this  time.  They  were  written  in  the  midst  of  a 
fight  by  a  man  who  had  a  little  boy  and  lots  of 
money  with  him — at  least  that  was  what  Buckskin 
Bob  told  me.  He's  the  wounded  renegade  whom  the 
soldiers  brought  back  to  the  fort,  you  know.  Well, 
sir,  here  they  are,  sure's  you're  born.  Now,  if  one 
part  of  that  villain's  story  is  true,  maybe  it  will  turn 
out  that  the  whole  of  it  is." 

As  Uncle  Jack  said  this,  he  took  off  the  last  roll  of 
buckskin  and  brought  to  light  two  pieces  of  wrinkled 
and  soiled  note  paper,  which  looked  as  though  they 
were  almost  ready  to  fall  into  fragments.  He 
•  smoothed  them  out  very  carefully  and  was  delighted 
to  see  that  the  writing  could  be  readily  deciphered. 
The  ink  was  almost  as  bright  as  it  was  on  the  day  it 
was  spread  upon  the  paper. 

Uncle  Jack  was  not  an  excitable  man,  but  he 
looked  like  one  just  now.  He  hoped  and  believed 
that  he  was  on  the  eve  of  an  important  discovery. 


GILBEKT  THE  TRAPPER.  67 

He  took  a  hasty  glance  at  the  papers  and  then  passed 
them  over  to  Gus. 

"  You  read  'em,"  said  he,  as  he  settled  himself  in 
his  comfortable  chair.  "  Your  eyes  are  younger  than 
mine.     Read  the  English  one  first." 

"  How  provoking !  "  exclaimed  Jerry,  who  was 
looking  over  his  brother's  shoulder.  "  There's  only 
half  of  it  here.  Of  course  it  breaks  off  in  the  most 
interesting  part,  just  like  the  stories  in  the  papers." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Uncle  Jack,  with  suppressed  im- 
patience. "But  then  I  knew  it  wasn't  all  there, 
for  Buckskin  Bob  told  me  so.  Bead  what  there  is  of 
it,  Gus." 

After  tenderly  smoothing  one  of  the  papers  on  his 
knee,  and  getting  all  the  wrinkles  he  could  out  of  it, 
Gus  began. 

"Sweetwa — That's  all  there  is  of  that  word,"  said 
he.     "The  rest  is  cut  off." 

"It  means  Sweetwater  Canyon,  probably,"  said 
the  ranchman.  "  Is  there  any  date  to  it  ?  "Well,  go 
ahead." 

Gus  complied,  and  read  as  follows  : 

"  I  started  from  the  miues  six 
my  little  boy,  Gilbert  Hubbard  Nev 
thought  to  bo  my  friends,  to  cross 
My  wife  died  almost  a  year  ago,  an 
my  friends  any  longer.    I  live  in 
hard,  and  saved  nearly  a  hundred 
and  nuggets,  and  brought  it  witn 
started  I  have  grown  suspicious 
are  none  too  good  to  knock  me  on 
possession  of  my  hard  earned  treas 
I  shall  never  see  the  States  alive 
worked  upon  me  of  late,  that  I  dec 
and  have  done  so  tonight  while 
companions  being  asleep.  If  I  fal 
sociates,  the  inclosed  cryptogram 
whoso  possession  it  may  fall,  if 
where  my  wealth  may  be  found.    I 
into  the  hands  of  some  honest  man 
boy  gets  his  rights." 

"  That  is  all,"  said  Gus,  while  an  expression  of  an- 


68  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

noyance  and  disappointment  settled  on  his  face. 
"  Who  cut  this  paper  in  two  ?  Has  anybody  got  the 
rest  of  it?" 

"  Pete  Axley,  Buckskin  Bob's  partner,  did  it,"  an- 
swered Uncle  Jack,  "  and  he's  got  the  rest.  It  doesn't 
say  anything  about  a  fight  them  miners  had  with  the 
Cheyennes,  does  it  ?  " 

"Not  a  word,"  replied  Gus,  looking  at  the  paper  on 
both  sides.     "  Not  a  single,  solitary  word." 

"Then  that's  one  flaw  in  Bob's  story,"  said  Uncle 
Jack,  reflectively.  "  He  tried  hard  to  make  me  think 
he  was  telling  me  the  truth,  but  I  was  suspicious  of 
him  all  the  time.  Well,  he  gave  me  a  clew  to  some- 
thing, 'cause  he  thought  he  was  going  to  die,  and  I 
shall  not  rest  easy  till  I  know  the  whole  secret.  What 
idea  do  you  get  from  reading  that,  boys?  " 

"  Why,  it  is  plain  enough  to  me  that  the  one  who 
wrote  it  was  afraid  his  companions  would  kill  him 
to  get  possession  of  his  money,  or  dust  or  nuggets, 
or  whatever  it  was,  and  that  he  hoped  this  note 
would  fall  into  the  hands  of  some  honest  man  so  that 
his  boy  would  get  his  rights,"  said  Gus. 

"That's  my  way  of  looking  at  it,  too,"  said  the 
ranchman.  "  But  that's  where  that  miner  was  dis- 
appointed. The  letter  fell  into  the  hands  of  one  who 
never  was  known  to  do  an  honest  act  since  he  has 
been  on  the  reservation." 

"  Didn't  I  say  that  the  letter  would  break  off  in 
the  most  interesting  part?"  chimed  in  Jerry.  "If 
we  only  had  the  other  half,  we  could  tell  where  the 
writer  lived  when  he  was  at  home.  As  it  is,  we  are 
at  our  wits'  end." 

"  I  know  that  we've  a  hard  task  before  us,  but  we 
can  go  through  with  it,"  said  Uncle  Jack.  "That 
boy  has  been  kept  out  of  his  rights  long  enough, 
and  now  they  must  be  restored  to  him.  You  hear 
me  ?  " 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  69 

"But  how  are  you  going  to  give  him  his  rights 
when  you  don't  know  where  to  find  him  ?  "We  don't 
even  know  what  his  name  is.  There's  only  part  of 
it  here— Gilbert  Hubbard  Nev—  Jerry,  what  word 
begins  with  Nev?" 

The  latter  looked  bewildered,  ran  his  eyes  around 
the  room  as  if  he  hoped  to  see  something  in  it  that 
would  suggest  an  idea  to  him,  and  finally  answered  : 

"  Never — Never  sink." 

"  Ah,  pshaw  !  "  exclaimed  Gus.  "  I  want  a  surname. 
Pete  Axley  was  sharp  enough  to  keep  the  parts  that 
had  the  names  on  them,  and  it  is  my  opinion  that  if 
we  could  put  our  hands  into  his  haversack  we  should 
bring  out  something  that  would  astonish  everybody. 
It  looks  to  me  as  if  those  two  scoundrels,  Axley  and 
Buckskin  Bob,  have  laid  their  plans  to  hunt  that 
money  up  and  keep  it." 

"That's  the  way  it  looks  to  me,  too,"  said  Uncle 
Jack. 

"Well,  then,  why  haven't  they  been  about  it? 
Thirteen  years  is  a  long  time  to  waste  on  doing  no- 
thing, when  there  is  a  fortune  to  be  had  for  the 
taking." 

"But,  you  see  they  don't  know  where  that  fortune 
is  concealed,"  said  the  ranchman.  "  The  Dutch 
part  of  the  business  bothered  'em,  just  as  I  am  afraid 
it  is  going  to  bother  you." 

"  This  other  paper  isn't  written  in  Dutch,"  said 
Gus,  with  a  laugh.  "Doesn't  the  miner  himself 
speak  of  it  as  a  cryptogram?  That  means  anything 
that  is  written  in  secret  characters.  This  one  is 
founded  on  the  alphabet,  and  consequently  it  can  be 
solved  by  anybody  who  has  the  patience  to  stick  to 
it  long  enough." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  can  work  it  out?  " 
exclaimed  Uncle  Jack  in  delighted  accents. 

"  I  have  not  the  least  doubt  of  it;  but  it  will  take 


70  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

time.  It  is  about  the  worst  looking  cipher  I  evei 
saw,  but  I  will  take  a  copy  of  it,  and  see  what  I  can 
do.  Of  course,  I  can't  get  at  the  full  secret  of  the 
matter,  because  there's  only  half  the  paper  here." 

"  Well,  you  read  what  you've  got,  and  I'll  see  that 
you  get  the  rest,"  said  Uncle  Jack;  and  the  boys 
noticed  that  he  set  his  lips  firmly  together. 

"  Why,  look  here,"  cried  Jerry,  as  if  the  idea  had 
just  occurred  to  him.  "The  soldiers  said  that  the 
fellow  who  worked  so  hard  to  save  Aleck's  life,  called 
himself  Gilbert,  and  who  knows  but  he  may  be  that 
miner's  little  boy  ?  " 

"  It's  the  strangest  thing  in  the  world  that  I  didn't 
think  of  that  myself,"  exclaimed  Gus.  "  I'll  bet  they 
are  one  and  the  same,"  he  added,  after  lie  had  taken 
another  look  at  his  relative's  face. 

"It  has  been  as  plain  as  daylight  to  me  from  the 
very  first,"  answered  the  latter*;  "  and  I  wonder  that 
you  were  so  long  in  finding  it  out." 

"  Did  you  speak  to  the  scout  in  buckskin  after  the 
fight  in  the  canyon  ?  "  inquired  Jerry.  "  Did  he  tell 
you  his  history?  " 

"Never  spoke  a  word  to  him  in  my  life;  and  after 
the  fight  no  one  had  a  chance  to  speak  to  him,  for  he 
skipped  out,  and  we  never  saw  him  afterward.  What 
I  know  about  hi  in  I  heard  from  scout  Eobinson,  and 
from  Buckskin  Bob." 

The  ranchman  then  went  on  to  tell  of  the  many 
remarkable  things  that  had  been  brought  about  by 
his  long  shot  at  the  squaw  man,  who  had  taunted  him 
and  his  companions  with  cowardice,  because  they 
would  not  expose  themselves  to  certain  death  in  the 
effort  to  rescue  the  wounded  cowboy.  When  he  was 
fairly  started,  he  found  that  there  were^  several  in- 
teresting incidents  to  describe;  so  many,  in  fact,  that 
the  day  was  far  spent  before  he  got  through  with 
his  story. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  71 


CHAPTEE  XI. 

TRACING    THE    MYSTERY. 

When  Gus  Warren  retired  to  his  room  that  night, 
he  pulled  out  his  copy  of  the  cryptogram,  and  gaYe 
it  a  good  looking  over. 

"It  is  no  wonder  that  Buckskin  Bob  thought  it 
was  Dutch,"  was  his  mental  reflection. 

Gus  brought  out  his  pencil  and  paper,  and  in  less 
than  an  hour  he  had  found  the  key — not  by  accident, 
but  by  downright  hard  work.  You  can  And  it  in  the 
same  *  length  of  time,  and  in  the  same  way  if  you 
choose  to  set  about  it.  Here  is  his  copy  of  the  cryp- 
togram : 

Az  ftq  xqrf  tmzp  eupq  ar  ftq 
xqmzuzs  eodgn  amw  1'dqq  mf  qzfdmzo 
rqqf  uqxai  egdrmoq.    Dqyahq  xqmhqe 
ar  kqmde  ar  faux  iuxx  nq  dqhqmxqp. 
kag ;  uf  nqxazse  fa  tuy. 

Gus  wrote  out  his  translation,  and  tumbled  into 
bed  with  a  light  heart.  If  his  uncle  would  only 
manage  to  get  the  rest  of  the  paper  for  him,  he  was 
sure  he  could  tell  where  Gilbert's  money  was  hidden. 

The  next  -morning  when  Gus  and  Jerry  joined 
Uncle  Jack  at  the  breakfast  table,  the  former  handed 
out  his  copy  of  the  cryptogram,  together  with  his 
translation  of  it,  while'  his  brother  stood  upon  the 
hearth  and  "hugged  the  fire." 

"  I  told  you  that  I  couldn't  go  to  the  bottom  of 
the  matter,  because  we've  got  only  half  the  paper," 


72  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

said  Gus.  With  the  exception  of  the  last  word 
in  the  second  line,  the  words  are  all  there  ;  that  is 
to  Bay,  there  are  none  of  them  cut  in  two,  as  they 
were  in  the  letter.  According  to  my  way  of  looking 
at  it,  there  is  one  letter  of  that  word  gone,  and  that 
is  'q.'     If  I  am  right  the  word  is  '  entrance.'  " 

"Now,  this  bangs  me,"  exclaimed  Uncle  Jack. 
"How  in  the  world  did  you  manage  it?" 

Without  waiting  for  a  reply  he  turned  his  attention 
to  the  translation,  and  read  as  follows: 

"  On  the  left  hand  side  of  the— leaning  scrub  oak  tree  at  en- 
tranc  -feet  below  surface.  Remove  leaves— of  years  of  toil  will 
be  revealed— you ;  it  belougs  to  him." 

Uncle  Jack  could  hardly  believe  his  eyes.  It  was 
certain  that  Gus  had  made  sense  out  of  something 
that  was  altogether  too  deep  for  him,  and  he  could 
only  say  that  it  banged  him,  and  asked  how  his  ne- 
phew had  managed  it. 

"  I  did  as  second  rate  carpenters  do  when  they  want 
to  fit  a  rafter,"  replied  Gus.  "I 'cut  and  tried.'  I 
first  wrote  all  the  letters  of  the  alphabet  under  one 
another,  from  A  to  Z.  Then  I  placed  first  one  letter 
and  then  another  opposite  to  them  until  I  made  them 
spell  something.  At  last  I  found  that  by  beginning 
with  the  fifteenth  letter  and  writing  the  alphabet  all 
over  again,  placing  a  opposite  o,  b  opposite  p,  c  op- 
posite q,  and  so  on,  I  could  make  sense  out  of  the 
cryptogram.  There's  the  key,"  he  added,  handing- 
over  a  third  paper  ;  "  don't  lose  it,  for  I  may  need  it 
when  you  get  the  rest  of  the  cryptogram.  That  is 
what  troubles  me  now7.  If  Pete  Axley  has  it,  he  may 
not  want  to  give  it  up  on  demand. " 

"  I  don't  reckon  he  will,"  answered  Uncle  Jack.  "  If 
he's  willing,  it  ain't  at  all  likely  that  the  trader  will 
be." 

"  The  trader  ?  "  repeated  Gus. 

"  Yes  ;  the  one  who  cheats  the  Indians  at  the  lower 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  73 

agency.  Didn't  I  tell  you  that  Pete  had  taken  him 
into  his  confidence,  in  the  hope  that  he  would  be  able 
to  read  the  strange  writing  that  you  have  worked  out 
with  so  little  trouble  ?" 

"  Worse  and  worse  !  "  exclaimed  Gus.  "We  have  got 
a  job  on  our  hands,  that's  a  fact.  No,  you  didn't  tell 
me  that.  How  long  have  Pete  and  the  trader  been 
partners  in  this  business  ?" 

"  I  don't  believe  Buckskin  Bob  told  me  that,"  re- 
plied Uncle  Jack.  "  All  I  know  is,  that  the  trader  is,  or 
has  been,  working  at  this  cryptogram,  as  you  call  it, 
and  that  he  and  Pete  intend  to  divide  the  money, 
when  they  get  it." 

"  I  wonder  if  the  trader  has  ever  had  any  exper- 
ience in  solving  cryptograms  of  this  sort,"  said  Jerry, 
from  his  place  in  front  of  the  fire. 

"  Now,  that's  an  idea,"  said  Gus.  "If  this  is  the 
first  one  he  ever  tackled,  he'll  not  make  anything  out 
of  it;  lean  tell  him  that  much.  How  long  has  he 
been  working  on  it  ?  " 

Uncle  Jack  was  obliged  to  confess  that  he  could 
not  answer  either  one  of  these  questions.  He  knew 
that  the  trader  had  a  copy  of  the  strange  writing,  that 
Pete  Axley  had  the  original,  and  that  was  all  he  did 
know. 

"  Isn't  there  any  law  in  this  country  to  compel 
that  squaw  man  to  surrender  things  that  do  not  be- 
long to  him  ?  "  inquired  Jerry. 

"  Oh,  yes;  there's  law  enough,  "  replied  Uncle  Jack. 
"I  can  walk  up  to  him  and  tell  him  that  if  he  don't 
hand  out  them  papers  before  I  wink  twice,  I  will  send 
him  to  the  happy  land  ;  but  you  see " 

"I  don't  mean  that  kind  of  law,"  interrupted  Gus. 
"  I  mean  such  law  as  that  which  is  recognized 
among  civilized  people." 

"No;  I  don't  reckon  that  there's  any  of  that  sort 
that  will   touch  him,"  said  the  ranchman.     "  And  I 


74  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

don't  say  that  my*  way  would  have  the  desired  effect 
either.  I  don't  know  that  Pete  carries  his  part  of  the 
papers  around  in  his  haversack,  as  Buckskin  Bob 
did.  He  may  have  'em  hidden  somewhere;  and  if  he 
found  out  that  we  wanted  them,  he  would  keep 
'em  hidden.  The  only  wa}T  to  get.  hold  of  'em  is 
by  strategy.  Gus,  s'pose  you  make  out  a  copy  of 
the  cryptogram  for  me ;  the  Dutch  part  of  it,  I 
mean." 

"  I  will,  as  soon  as  I  finish  my  breakfast;  but  what 
are  you  going  to  do  with  it  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  shall  do  anything  with  it," 
answered  Uncle  Jack,  who  had  not  had  time  to  ponder 
upon  the  plan  that  had  suddenly  come  into  his  mind. 
"I've  got  an  idea  that  it  maybe  sorter  handy  for 
me  to  have  it  in  my  pocket.  Jerry,  you'd  better  be 
paying  some  attention  to  them  pancakes  before  they 
get  cold.  And  that  reminds  me  of  something  that  I 
want  to  say  to  you  boys.  We're  going  to  have  a  bliz- 
zard in  a  day  or  two,  and  you  don't  want  to  get 
caught  out  in  it.  If  you  are,  good  by  to  all  your 
hopes  of  ever  seeing  home  again." 

Instead  of  coming  to  the  table,  Jerry  walked  over 
to  the  window  and  looked  out.  It  is  true  that  the 
weather  was  cold,  but  it  was  bracing,  the  sun  was 
shining  brightly,  and  there  was  not  a  single  cloud  in 
the  sky.  But  his  uncle's  last  words  made  him  tremble. 
He  and  Gus  had  already  had  convincing  proof  that 
the  "  atmospheric  phenomena  of  the  plains  are  on  the 
most  stupendous  scale."  During  the  month  of  July 
they  had  witnessed  a  wind  storm  which  was  so  terrific 
that  it  made  even  the  experienced  inmates  of  the 
ranch  look  a  trifle  anxious.  For  fury  and  destruc- 
tiveness  it  far  exceeded  anything  it  had  ever  been  their 
luck  to  see.  The  hailstones,  some  of  which  were  five 
or  six  inches  in  circumference,  and  ragged,  shapeless 
masses  of  .ice,  did  great  damage,  splitting  the  boards 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  75 

on  the  roof,  breaking  down  fences  and  killing  wild 
birds  and  domestic  fowls  by  scores.  Uncle  Jack  lost 
more  than  a  hundred  calves  that  were  killed  by  these 
stones. 

After  the  storm  was  over,  one  of  the  herdsmen  came 
in  bleeding  from  more  than  a  dozen  wounds.  He 
related  that  the  storm  came  upon  him  with  a  sudden- 
ness and  rapidity  that  were  startling. 

Instead  of  trying  to  run  away  from  it,  as  a  tender- 
foot would  have  done,  and  thereby  putting  himself  in 
the  way  of  certain  destruction,  he  turned  his  horse 
loose,  sat  down  under  a  bush  and  covered  his  head 
with  his  saddle,  which  in  some  measure  protected  him. 
But  his  hands  and  one  of  his  legs,  which  he  incau- 
tiously exposed,  were  severely  cut,  and  in  several 
places  the  leather  was  knocked  off  the  saddle  by  the 
frozen  missiles. 

"  Oh,  this  ain't  nothing,"  said  the  cowboy,  when  Gus 
insisted  that  he  should  have  his  cuts  bandaged. 
"  What  I'm  worrying  about  is  my  horse.  Of  course 
the  pelting  of  the  stones  made  him  so  frantic  that  he 
wouldn't  think  of  running  for  cover,  and  if  he  wasn't 
killed,  he  may  have  run  fifty  miles  awa}\  My  chances 
of  seeing  him  again  are  mighty  slim." 

"  I  have  heard  of  stock  being  stampeded,  but  I 
never  thought  they  covered  as  much  ground  as  that," 
said  Gus. 

"  Well,  it  depends  on  what  kind  of  stock  it  is,"  re- 
plied the  cowboy.  "  If  they  drop  dead,  of  course  they 
can't  run  any  further  ;  but  if  they've  the  endurance 
to  stand  up  under  it,  they'll  run  a  hundred  miles 
before  they  stop." 

Jerry  thought  of  all  these  things  while  he  stood  at 
the  window  making  observations  of  the  weather,  and 
then  he  drew  a  chair  to  the  table  and  devoted  himself 
to  the  pancakes. 

"  I   have   some   curiosity  to   see  a   blizzard,"  said 


76  GILBEET  THE  TRAPPER. 

he,  at  length,  "  but  I  hope  none  of  our  people  will 
be  so  unfortunate  as  to  be  caught  out  in  it.  What's 
it  like,  uncle  ?" 

"  Well, "  said  the  latter,  slowly,  "  I  '11  say  to  you 
as  the  old  Quaker  said  to  his  son,  when  the  boy  asked 
him  what  a  toothache  was  like  :  '  When  thee  has  had 
a  little  experience  with  it,  then  thee'll  know.'  You 
will  know  all  about  a  blizzard  in  less  than  a  week." 

Uncle  Jack  did  not  suspect  how  close  he  was  shoot- 
ing to  the  mark  when  he  said  this.  What  he  meant 
was,  that  his  nephews  would  see  the  storm  through 
the  window,  without  feeling  any  of  the  effects  of  it; 
but  they  didn't.  They  were  much  closer  to  it;  in  fact, 
they  were  out  in  it. 

"  You  boys  thought  that  the  hailstorm  we  had 
last  summer  was  as  terrific  a  convulsion  of  nature  as 
you  cared  to  look  at,  "  continued  Uncle  Jack.  "  Well, 
it  was  pretty  rough,  and  you  saw  the  damage  it 
did,  but  an  ordinary  blizzard  beats  it  all  hollow. 
It  will  come  upon  you  out  of  a  clear  sky  on  a 
warm  day  like  this,  and  when  you  get  up  in  the 
morning,  you  will  find  the  mercury  frozen  solid  in 
the  bulb  of  the  thermometer." 

"  Forty  degrees  below  zero  ?  "  exclaimed  Jerry. 
"  Does  it  ever  get  as  cold  as  that  out  here  ?  " 

"  I  reckon.  The  wind  blows  as  it  blows  nowhere 
else  on  earth,  and  it  seems  to  drive  every  particle  of 
heat  out  of  you.  The  air  is  filled  with  ice — not  snow, 
mind  you,  but  sharp  ice;  and  you  run  the  risk  of 
losing  your  eyesight  if  you  attempt  to  face  it.  Dur- 
ing the  first  winter  I  spent  here,  two  of  my  best  men 
got  lost  in  a  blizzard,  and  froze  to  death  in  less  than  a 
hundred  yards  of  the  room  in  which  we  are  now  sit- 
ting. That  same  winter  the  post  surgeon  at  Fort 
Lewis  performed  more  than  two  hundred  capita]  op- 
erations on  buffalo  hunters  and  railroad  men  who 
were  caught  out  in  some  of  the  storms." 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  77 

«  And  is  that  the  kind  of  a  thing  that  is  threatening 
us  now  ?"  said  Gus.  "  I  should  think  you  w<  >uld  take 
some  steps  looking  to  the  protection  of  your  cat- 
tle " 

'  "Sho!"  exclaimed  Uncle  Jack.  "Well,  I  took 
some  steps  this  morning,  long  before  you  thought  of 
crawling  out  of  your  beds,  and  I  am  going  out  directly 
to  help  the  boys  round  up  the  stock  and  drive  it  to- 
ward the  foothills.  If  I  get  em  into  the  timber  before 
the  storm  breaks,  they  will  be  all  right;  but  it  it 
catches  them  on  the  open  plain  they  11  put  out^and 
that  will  be  the  last  I'll  see  of  the  most  of  them. 

So  saving,  Uncle  Jack  pushed  back  the  chair  and 
made  ready  to  go  out  and  help  his  men  round  up  the 

eattle 

«  Why  can't  we  go  with  you  ?  "  inquired  Jerry. 
" It's  ffoine  to  be  awful  slow  staying  around  the  house 
two  or  three  days,  doing  nothing,  and  we  have  learned 
a  good  deal  about  rounding  up." 

«  I  know  you  have,  but  not  enough  for  me  to  trust 

vou  in  tins  instance, "was  the  reply.  "   inheres  a 

thing  on  top  the  ground  that  is  mighty  easy  stampeded 

it  is°a  steer,  when  you  are  trying  to  make  him  do 

something  he  don't  want  to  do.  He  will  get  irightened 

at dust  nothing  at  all,  audit  tabs  the  best  kind  of 

handling  to  make  him  stay    anywhere.      Some  other 

time  I  shall  call  upon  you  to  help  me  round  up  ;  but 

today  I  shall  have  to  leave  you  behind.  It  you  get 

tired  of  staving  around  the  house  saddle  up  and   go 

somewhere  else.     There  ain't  any  Indians  to  bother 

you  now,  and  if  vou  don't  let  the  blizzard  catch  you, 

you  will  be  all  right      Well,   good  by;    I  must  be 

'°Uncle  Jack  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  away,  and 
the  boys  went  into  the  office,  where  Gus  sat  down  to 
write  a  letter  to  his  mother,  telling  of  their  uncle  s 
safe  return  from  his  scout  after  the  hostiles,  while 


78  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

Jerry  tried  to  find  amusement  in  an  old  magazine 
which  he  had  read  so  often  that  he  knew  some  por- 
tions of  it  by  heart. 

They  passed  the  time  in  this  way  until  Sam  called 
them  to  lunch;  and  when  that  was  over,  they  saddled 
their  ponies  and  set  out  for  a  short  ride. 


GFS   AND   JERRY   WARREN   IN    A    SAND    STORM. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  79 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE      SAND     STORM. 

It  was  just  the  day  for  a  brisk  gallop  ;  or,  at  least, 
that  was  what  the  boys  told  each  other  when  they 
drew  rein  for  a  short  rest  on  the  summit  of  a  high 
swell  about  five  miles  from  Uncle  Jack's  ranch.  The 
air  was  still  cold  enough  to  be  bracing,  but  there  was 
something  peculiar  about  the  wind,  which  the  boys 
noticed  as  soon  as  they  brought  their  horses  to  a  stand 
still.     It  was  so  warm  that  it  was  almost  oppressive. 

"  It  feels  as  if  it  came  off  a  blast  furnace,  doesn't 
it?"  said  Jerry.  "I  wonder  if  it  is  one  of  the  signs 
of  an  approaching  blizzard  !" 

"I  never  heard  of  that,"  replied  Gus,  "  but  if  we 
were  in  Texas,  I  should  say  that  we  were  going  to 
have  a  norther.  I  have  read  that  they  sometimes 
begin  with  a  warm  wind,  which  without  an  instant's 
warning,  changes  to  one  of  icy  coldness.  The  mercury 
has  been  known  to  fall  sixty  degrees  in  less  than  five 
minutes;  and,  what  looks  very  strange  to  me,  the  sad- 
den change  in  the  temperature  was  never  known  to 
produce  any  bad  effects  upon  those  who  lnrppened  to 
be  caught  out.  But  I  don't  suppose  that  they  have 
any  northers  up  here." 

"I  should  think  it  would  be  hard  work  to  follow  a 
trail  over  such  ground  as  this,"  observed  Jerry,  chang- 
ing the  subject,  "and  harder  still  for  so  many  herds 
of  cattle  to  find  pasture  here.  There  doesn't  seem  to 
be  any  soil  for  the  grass  to  grow  in.  It  is  all  dust, 
and  two  or  three  inches  deep  at  that." 


80  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

"  It  isn't  dust,"  answered  Ghis;  "  it  is  sand.  I  won- 
der if  it  is  a  part  of  the  Great  American  Desert  that 
the  old  geographies  tell  about.  I  wish  it  wouldn't 
fly  around  quite  so  much,"  he  added,  pulling  out 
his  handkerchief  and  wiping  his  eyes  with  it.  "  If  I 
am  as  dirty  as  you  are,  I  am  a  pretty  dirty  fellow." 

"  Well,  you  are  ;  every  bit,"  said  Jerry.  "You 
look  as  though  you  had  been  making  a  summer  jour- 
ney on  a  railroad  train." 

While  the  boys  were  talking,  they  noticed,  on  the 
plain  below  them,  several  little  whirlwinds  of  sand 
and  loose  grass  scudding  along  before  the  breeze, 
like  those  that  are  sometimes  seen  on  a  dusty  street. 

And  these  little  whirlwinds  kept  company  with 
them,  as  they  galloped  across  the  intervening  lowland 
to  another  hill,  two  miles  farther  on,  to  see  if  they 
could  catch  a  glimpse  of  any  of  the  cowboys. 

"  Let's  get  out  of  this,"  said  Gus,  holding  his  bent 
forearm  and  looking  under  it  in  the  hope  of  discov- 
ering some  of  his  uncle's  herdsmen.  "  There's  no  one 
in  sight,  so  we  might  as  well  start  for  home  before 
this  dust  gets  thick  enough  to  choke  us.  Why,  Jerry, 
one  of  those  stones  left  a  mark  on  your  cheek ! " 

"  Say,"  gasped  the  latter,  who  was  already  so  nearly 
choked  that  lie  could  hardly  catch  his  breath  long 
enough  to  speak.  "  Didn't  it  ever  occur  to  you  that 
this  may  be  a  saad  storm  ?  " 

This  simple  question  almost  frightened  Gus  out  of 
his  wits.  He  had  never  thought  of  such  a  thing  before, 
but  he  thought  of  it  now. 

He  remembered  that  his  uncle  had  once  given  him 
and  his  brother  a  lengthy  description  of  these  storms, 
which  are  exceedingly  disagreeable,  but  very  rare, 
owing  to  the  fact  that  it  takes  a  peculiar  kind  of  wind 
to  raise  one.  It  is  not  necessary  that  it  should  blow 
very  strong,  but  that  it  should  have  an  inclination  to 
the  surface.     Such  a  wind  tills  tlie  air  so  full  of  loose 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  81 

grass,  sand,  dust  and  small  stones,  and  drives  them 
along  with  such  fury,  that  it  is  impossible  to  see 
twenty  feet  away  in  any  direction,  and  dangerous  to 
attempt  to  face  it. 

"It  is  a  sand  storm,  as  sure  as  you  live,"  said  Gus, 
as  soon  as  he  could  speak,  "  and  if  we  don't  get  some- 
where pretty  soon  we  shall  lose  our  bearings;  and 
you  know  there's  a  blizzard  onlv  two  or  three  days 
off." 

"Gracious  !  "  exclaimed  Jerry.  "  You  go  ahead,  and 
I'll  follow,  provided  you  don't  go  toward  the  wind. 
My  eyes  are  nearly  blinded  already." 

"We  don't  want  to  go  toward  the  wind," answered 
his  brother,  "  for  that  would  lake  us  off  toward  Mr. 
Wilson's.  Pull  your  hat  down  over  your  eyes,  keep 
the  wind  blowing  on  your  left  cheek,  and  come  on." 

So  saying  Gus  put  his  pony  into  a  lope,  and  rode 
away  in  the  direction  in  which  he  supposed  his  uncle's 
house  to  be. 

It  was  all  guess  work  on  his  part,  for,  as  he  after- 
wards declared,  he  could  not  see  the  length  of  his 
nose  in  front  of  him,  the  air  was  so  full  of  sand  and 
stubble,  and  there  were  two  things  that  he  forgot  to 
take  into  consideration.  One  was,  that  his  pony's 
desire  to  get  a  breath  of  fresh  air  might  lead  him  to 
make  for  the  nearest  cover,  and  the  other  was  the 
possibility  that  the  wind  might  not  continue  to  blow 
from  the  same  quarter. 

In  fact  it  was  shifting  from  one  quarter  to  another 
almost  every  instant,  gradually  veering  around  to  the 
north,  from  which  point  it  would  soon  blow  with  the 
greatest  fury,  bringing  with  it  blinding  sheets  of  snow 
and  cold  so  intense  that  no  living  thing  could  long 
stand  up  against  it ;  and  of  course  as  the  wind 
changed  its  direction,  the  boys  changed  theirs  in 
order  to  "  keep  it  blowing  upon  the  left  cheek  "  ;  and 
in  less  than  ten  minutes  after  they  set  out  for  their 


82  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

uncle's  house,  they  were  entirely  turned  around,  and 
riding  furiously  away  from  it. 

On  they  went,  for  an  hour  or  more,  without  once 
drawing  rein,  and  then  there  was  a  change  in  the 
character  of  the  wind,  and  in  the  appearance  of  things 
around  them.  The  breeze  suddenly  increased  to  a 
gale,  which,  blowing  more  on  a  level  with  the  ground, 
speedily  cleared  the  air  of  sticks,  sand,  and  pebbles, 
and  then  the  boys  stopped  their  ponies,  raised  the 
brims  of  their  hats  and  looked  about  them.  There 
was  not  a  single  familiar  landmark  within  the  range 
of  their  vision.  They  were  lost.  Gus  Warren  had 
had  a  faint  suspicion  of  it  before,  but  he  was  sure  of 
it  now.  They  had  been  riding  quite  long  enough  to 
reach  the  ranch,  which  was  not  more  than  seven  or 
eight  miles  from  the  swell  on  which  their  ponies 
stood  when  the  sand  storm  first  struck  them,  and  it 
was  plain  that  they  had  not  held  the  right  course. 

More  than  that,  he  had  noticed  for  a  mile  or  so 
back,  that  the  ground  over  which  his  pony  carried 
him  at  the  top  of  his  speed  was  not  at  all  familiar  to 
him.  His  tireless  little  steed  was  continually  running 
up  one  swell  and  down  another,  or  jumping  over  the 
gullies  that  lay  in  his  course,  and  his  rider  more 
than  once  told  himself  that  he  had  never  been 
that  way  before.  But  he  trusted  to  his  pony's  instinct, 
and  to  the  wind,  rather  than  to  his  knowledge  of  the 
country,  and  the  consequence  was  he  had  lost  his 
bearings. 

"  Now,  then,  where  is  the  house  ?"  demanded  Jerry, 
as  soon  as  he  had  cleared  his  eyes  of  the  dust  that 
had  been  blown  into  them.  "Do  you  suppose  it  is 
behind  thai,  cloud  of  sand  and  stones  ?  "  he  added, 
pointing  to  the  storm,  whose  course  could  be  plainly 
traced  in  the  distance. 

"No,  I  don't,"  replied  Gus,  promptly.  "I  don't 
know  where  it  is.      We  have  lost  our  way." 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  85 

"Oh,  that  can't  be,"  protested  Jerry.  "  Didn't  you 
feel  the  wind  blowing  on  your  left  cheek  all  the 
while  ?    I  did." 

"  So  did  I  ;  and  I  am  positive  that  if  we  had 
continued  to  follow  the  course  we  had  when  we  first 
started,  we  should  have  found  the  ranch  before  this 
time.  But  the  wind  must  have  changed,  when  we 
thought  it  was  holding  steady  all  the  time,  and  we're 
lost." 

"Lost !  "exclaimed  Jerry,  turning  white  with  alarm. 
"  Lod  !"  he  repeated,  as  if  he  did  not  quite  grasp 
the  meaning  of  the  word,  at  the  same  time  raising 
himself  in  Ms  saddle  in  the  vain  effort  to  increase  the 
range  of  his  vision.  "Why,  the  house  can't  be  very 
far  from  here.      What's  that  over  there  ?  " 

"  It's  the  timber  that  lines  the  base  of  the  foothills," 
answered  Gus,  "  You  never  saw  it  from  the  house, 
did  you?  Home  is  twenty  miles  from  here, -if  it  is  an 
inch.  Probably  it  is  much  farther  than  that.  Come 
on." 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  asked  Jerry,  as  his 
brother  once  more  put  his  pony  in  motion  and  rode 
toward  the  timber  of  which  he  had  spoken.  "  The 
house  doesn't  lie  off  in  that  direction.  You  must  be 
completely  turned  around." 

"  No  more  so  than  you  are,  if  you  imagine  we  can 
reach  Uncle  Jack's  roof  tonight.  We  have  barely 
two  hours  of  daylight  left,  and  instead  of  wasting 
that  to  no  purpose  I  suggest  that  we  make  the  best 
of  our  way  to  the  shelter  of  those  trees  and  go  into 
camp." 

Jerry  Warren's  fears  increased  every  minute. 

There  was  no  word  in  the  language  that  had  so 
many  terrors  for  him  as  that  little  word  "lost."  To 
his  mind  it  comprehended  all  there  was  of  hopeless, 
helpless  misery.  While  he  was  thinking  about  it,  the 
eloquent  words  of  one  of  his  favorite  authors  came  in 


86  GILBERT  THE  TKAPPER. 

to  his  mind,  and  he  repeated  them  aloud    without 
being-  conscious  of  what  he  was  doing  : 

"  There  are  those  who,  on  finding  themselves  alone  in  a  path- 
less forest,  become  appalled,  almost  panic  stricken.  The  vast- 
ness  of  an  unbroken  wilderness  subdues  them,  and  they  quail 
before  the  relentless  untamed  forces  of  nature.  They  know  that 
she  is  stem,  hard,  immovable  and  terrible  in  unrelenting  cruelty. 
When  winter  winds  are  out  and  the  mercury  far  below  zero, 
she  will  allow  her  most  ardent  lover  to  freeze  to  death  on  her 
snowy  breast  without  waving  a  leaf  in  sympathy,  or  offering 
him  a  match ;  and  scores  of  her  devotees  may  starve  to  death  in 
as  many  different  languages,  before  she  will  give  them  a  loaf  of 
bread." 

"  Well,  we  don't  ask  nature  for  a  loaf  of  bread,  or 
for  a  match  either,"  said  Gus.  as  he  headed  his  pony 
for  the  woods  and  urged  him  into  a  gallop.  "  We've 
got  both  and  she  can't  starve  or  freeze  us  in  one 
night,  that's  certain.  No  ;  I  don't  tbink  our  case  is 
desperate,  but  it  is  serious.  That  blizzard  is  com- 
ing " 

"  There,  now;  I  thought  it  was  growing  colder," 
said  Jerry,  dropping  his  reins,  and  pulling  his  collar 
up  around  his  ears.  "It  frightens  me  to  think  of  it. 
If  it  comes  before  morning — then  what  ?  " 

"  Why,  then,  we  shall  be  weather  bound;  that's  all," 
answered  Gus,  who  was  not  nearly  so  indifferent  to 
the  dangers  of  their  situation  as  he  pretended  to  be. 
"  We've  got  sixteen  cartridges  apiece  in  our  Win- 
chesters, a  camp  axe  and  plenty  of  grub  in  our  saddle 
bags,  and  our  blankets  are  strapped  in  their  usual 
places.  I  hope  we  know  enough  about  woodcraft  to 
make  ourselves  comfortable  for  a  few7  hours." 

"  A  few  hours  !  "  repeated  Jerry.  "  Don't  you  know 
that  these  blizzards  sometimes  last  three  or  four 
days  ? " 

Gus  believed  he  had  heard  Uncle  Jack  say  so. 

"And  that  it  is  no  uncommon  thing  for  them  to 
leave  drifts  more  than  twenty  feet  deep?"  continued 
Jerry. 


GILBEET  THE  TEAPPEE.  87 

Gus  knew  that  also,  but  did  not  see  how  they  were 
going  to  help  themselves.  If  the  blizzard  came,  they 
would  have  to  stand  it  ;  that  was  all.  It  certainly 
would  not  be  prudent  for  them  to  try  to  reach  home 
that  night,  for  the  dark  would  catch  them  sure. 

"  Then  why  not  trust  to  our  ponies  ?  "  inquired 
Jerry.     "  I  believe  thev  could  find  their  way  to  the 

house." 

"  I  know  they  could,  and  I  should  be  in  favor  of 
giving  them  their  heads,  if  I  were  not  afraid  of  that 
storm.  You  had  better  do  as  I  say  for  once.  You 
will   be  sorry  for  it  if  you  don't." 

Jerry  wasn't  so  sure  of  that,  yet  he  yielded  the 
point, "  It  was  well  for  him  that  he  did,  for  before  they 
had  accomplished  half  the  fifteen  miles  that  lay  be- 
tween tbem  and  the  willows  that  fringed  the  base  of 
the  foothills  the  blizzard  barst  upon  them  with 
all  its  fury. 

The  gale  roared  like  an  express  train,  and  in  an 
instant  the  snow  shut  the  timber  out  from  their  view  ; 
but  their  ponies  were  their  salvation.  These  intelli- 
gent animals  knew  what  a  storm  of  this  kind  meant 
better  than  their  riders  did,  and  without  any  word 
from  the  boys,  they  increased  their  pace  to  a  dead 
run,  holding  a  straight  course  for  the  hills. 

The  cold  was  far  ahead  of  anything  Gus  had  ever 
experienced  before,  or  even  dreamed  of,  but  he  bore 
up  under  it  manfully;  while  Jerry  wilted  visibly  at 
every  breath  of  the  cutting  blast. 

"  I  can't  stand  it,"  he  panted,  as  Gus  Warren  reined 
alongside  of  him,  and  began  unfastening  the  blanket 
that  was  strapped  behind  his  brother's  saddle.  "  I'm 
freezing." 

"  Oh  no,  you're  not,"  replied  Gus,  whose  lips  were 
so  benumbed  that  he  could  scarcely  frame  the  words. 
"You  hold  fast  to  your  horse;  that's  all  you've  got 
to  do.     He'll  take  you  through  all  right." 


88  GILBEKT  THE  TRAPPER 

Having  wrapped  his  brother  up  head  and  ears,  Gus 
unstrapped  his  own  blanket  and  covered  himself  with 
it;  but  the  only  good  it  did  him  was  to  afford  his  face 
protection  from  the  sheets  of  thin,  cutting  ice  with 
which  the  air  was  filled. 

It  did  not  seem  to  shut  out  the  wind  at  all.  He 
began  to  think  he  was  freezing  himself,  but  he  would 
not  have  told  Jerry  so  for  the  world. 

He  remembered  reading  somewhere  that  our  sol- 
diers often  encourage  their  companions,  when  on  a 
difficult  march,  by  singing  songs;  so  Gus  caught  his 
breath,  moved  his  blanket  out  of  the  way  so  that  his 
disheartened  brother  could  hear  him,  and  struck  up: 

Och,  I  wish  I  was  on  butther-mil-lick  hill, 
And  there  I'd  sit  and  cry  me  till ; 
So  that  every  tear  might  turn  a  mill— 
Och,  why  did  I  go  for  a  cowboy  ? 

"Brace  up  I"  he  added,  catching  Jerry  by  the  arm 
as  the  latter  reeled  in  his  saddle.  "  The  woods  are 
right  ahead  of  us.  Now,  pick  up  your  reins  and  be 
ready  to  check  your  pony.  If  you  don't,  he  may  dash 
into  the  bushes  and  knock  you  off." 

These  words  aroused  the  half  frozen  boy,  who  after 
a  few  efforts  managed  to  get  hold  of  his  reins,  and 
pull  his  blanket  aside  so  that  he  could  look  out.  The 
snow  was  so  thick  and  blinding  that  he  could  not  see 
anything,  but  a  moment  later  his  pony  stopped  his 
headlong  gallop,  and  stood  dancing  up  and  down  in 
his  tracks".  The  cold  and  cutting  ice  together  made 
him  so  nearly  frantic  that  he  could  not  stand  still. 

"Kaise  yourself  in  your  stirrups  so  that  I  can  pull 
off  your  saddle  bags,"  said  a  voice,  close  at  his  elbow. 
"  That's  all  right.  Now  tumble  off  and  I  wiD  catch 
you;  but  be  sure  and  keep  a  fast  hold  on  your  bridle, 
for  if  you  give  him  the  least  chance,  your  pony— whoa, 
there!     That's  what  I  was  afraid  of." 

Jerry  was  too  cold  to  care  for  anything  but  a  good 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  89 

fire  and  a  safe  shelter  from  the  storm.  He  tumbled 
limp  and  almost  lifeless  into  his  brother's  outstretched 
arms,  at  the  same  time  allowing  the  reins  to  fall  from 
his  grasp.  That  left  his  pony  at  liberty,  and  the  suf- 
fering animal  was  quick  to  appreciate  the  fact  as  well 
as  to  take  advantage  of  it.  Giving  an  angry  snort  he 
wheeled  about,  bowed  his  head  to  the  storm  and  set 
off  at  full  speed.  In  his  efforts  to  stop  him  and  to 
keep  his  brother  from  falling  heavily  to  the  ground, 
Ghis  released  his  grasp  upon  his  own  bridle,  and  his 
pony  dashed  away  to  keep  company  with  Jerry's.  They 
were  out  of  sight  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it. 

"  They're  stampeded  easy  enough,"  said  Gus,  as  he 
dragged  rather  than  led  his  brother  deeper  into  the 
shelter  afforded  by  the  friendly  bushes  and  ever- 
greens, "  and  we've  seen  the  last  of  them  for  one 
while." 

"Do  you  think  they  will  go  home?"  Jerry  man- 
aged to  ask.     "  I  wish  we  had  a  lire.  " 

At  almost  any  other  time  the  loss  of  his  horse  would 
have  frightened  Jerry;  but  now  he  did  not  seem  to 
care  much  about  it.  His  brain  was  benumbed  as  well 
as  his  body. 

"No,  I  don't  think  they  will  go  home,"  replied  Gus. 
"They  will  turn  their  heads  away  from  the  wind 
and  run  till  they  drop.  It  is  a  wonder  to  me  how  we 
controlled  them  as  long  as  we  did.  We  were  so  cold 
that  they  could  have  pitched  us  over  their  heads  at 
any  time,  if  they  had  taken  a  notion  to  do  it." 

"  I  don't  see  why  they  didn't  stay  with  us,  now  that 
we  have  reached  shelter,"  observed  Jerry.  "These 
trees  completely  shut  off  the  storm,  don't  they  ?" 

"  Yes;  but  they  don't  shut  off  the  cold,  and  we  shall 
freeze  if  we  don't  get  deeper  into  them  and  make  a 
camp.  Uncle  Jack  says  that  the  safest  place  during 
a  blizzard  is  a  canyon.  Come  on,  and  we'll  see  if  we 
can  find  one." 


90  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

It  was  only  by  the  greatest  exercise  of  will  power 
that  Jerry  could  bring-  himself  to  act  upon  this  sug- 
gestion. 

He  lifted  his  saddle  bags  from  the  ground  and  plod- 
ded wearily  through  the  timber  after  his  brother,  but 
he  left  him  to  do  all  the  prospecting.  Jerry  was 
so  nearly  "  done  up,"  as  he  expressed  it,  that  he  would 
not  have  recognized  a  canyon  if  he  had  stumbled  into 
one. 

In  this  desperate  situation  w7e  must  leave  him  and 
his  brother  to  take  care  of  themselves  while  we  take 
up  the  history  of  some  other  characters  whose  names 
have  been  incidentally  mentioned  in  this  narrative. 

Let  us  go  in  search  of  Gilbert  the  Trapper,  who  is 
really  the  hero  of  my  story. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  91 


CHAPTER  Xin. 

THIRTEEN  YEARS  BEFORE. 

"  There's  a  man  outside  who  calls  himself  Grizzly 
Pete,  and  who  says  he  would  like  to  see  you,  sir,  on 
business  of  the  greatest  importance." 

Colonel  Starke,  the  commanding  officer  of  old  Fort 
Shaw,  who  had  just  filled  his  pipe  for  his  after  sup- 
per smoke,  having  previously  pulled  off  his  heavy 
boots  and  thrust  his  feet  into  a  pair  of  comfortable 
slippers,  faced  about  in  his  big  chair  and  looked 
at  the  speaker — a  spruce  orderly,  who  stood  in  the 
open  door  with  his  hand  to  his  cap. 

"  Grizzly  Pete,"  repeated  the  colonel, "don't  know 
any  such  man.     Does  he  belong  here  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  he's  a  scpuaw  man,  and  he " 

"That  settles  it,"  interrupted  the  officer,  impa- 
tiently. "  I  won't  see  him.  Tell  him  to  go  and  bother 
the  agent.  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  him  or  his  kind. 
He  gets  his  rations  Saturday,  just  because  he  happens 
to  have  an  Indian  wife,  and  that's  all  the  government 
can  afford  to  do  for  him." 

"  But  he's  got  a  little  white  boy  with  him,  sir,"  con- 
tinued the  orderly,  "  and  he  wants  to  give  him  up  to 
you." 

"  A  white  boy  ?"  exclaimed  the  colonel.  "  Where 
did  he  get  him  ?     Send  him  in." 

The  soldier  closed  the  door  of  the  commandant's 
quarters  behind  him,  and  in  a  few  minutes  opened  it 


92  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

again  to  admit  a  tall,  bearded  man,  who  carried  some- 
thing in  his  arms  that  was  closely  wrapped  in  a  dirty 
blanket.  He  took  possession  of  the  nearest  chair 
without  waiting  for  an  invitation,  removed  the  blank- 
et, and  disclosed  to  the  colonel's  astonished  view  one 
of  the  handsomest  boys  he  had  ever  seen — a  sprightly 
little  four  year  old,  who  was  dressed  in  a  complete  suit 
of  gaudily  ornamented  buckskin. 

"  Where  in  the  name  of  all  that's  wonderful  did 
you  pick  him  up?"  inquired  the  colonel,  as  soon  as 
he  somewhat  recovered  himself. 

He  held  out  his  hands  to  the  child,  but  the  latter 
turned  to  the  squaw  man,  and  climbed  upon  his 
knee. 

"  Whar  did  I  pick  him  up?"  repeated  the  renegade. 
"  Nowhares.  He's  mine,  an'  always  has  been  ;  ain't 
that  so,  Gilbert  ?  An'  I  reckon  the  way  he  comes  to 
me,  instead  of  runnin'  to  you  when  you  hold  out  your 
hands,  proves  it,  don't  it  ?  Yes,  he  has  always  been 
mine." 

The  colonel  could  hardly  believe  that  he  heard 
aright.  He  looked  at  the  squaw  man's  repulsive 
face,  then  at  the  boy's  clear  cut  features,  and  told 
himself  that  there  was  not  the  slightest  resemblance 
between  them,  nor  any  relationship,  either. 

"You  see,  colonel,  I  ain't  always  been  what  lam 
now,"  continued  the  squaw  man.  "I  used  to  be  a 
gentleman  in  Calif orny,  an'  what  brought  me  out 
here  among  the  Injuns  ain't  nobody's  business,  so 
long  as  I  didn't  do  nothing  that  the  law  can  take  hold 
of.  I'm  here,  an'  so  is  the  boy  ;  but  an  Injun  tepee 
ain't  just  the  place  for  a  brat  of  this  sort." 

"No;  I  shouldn't  say  it  was,"  replied  the  colonel. 
"It  is  one  of  the  worst  places  in  the  world  for  him; 
that  is,  if  you  want  him  to  be  anybody  when  he 
grows  up." 

"  That's  jest  the  p'int,  colonel,"  exclaimed  the  squaw 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  93 

man.  "I  clo  want  liim  to  be  somebody  when  lie 
gr  .\vs  ui),  an'  that's  why  I  brung  hiin  to  the  post. 
Thar's  white  women  here,  an'  if  they  would  only 
take  him  in  hand  an'  see  that  he  gets  a  little  trainin' 
that'll  fit  him  to  go  among  them  of  his  own  kind,  I'd 
he  monstrous  glad  of  it.  If  you  won't  let  him  stay, 
then  he's  as  good  as  dead." 

'  What  do  you  mean  by  that?" 

"  Wal,  I'll  tell  you,  colonel.  This  boy  has  got  a 
fortin'  comin'  to  him,  an'  that  same  fortin'  is  what 
drove  me  among  the  Injuns.  I  come  here  to  save  the 
boy's  life  ;  but  I'm  follered  by  them  that  wants  him 
ouien  the  way  so  that  they  can  get  the  money,  an' 
I'm  that  scared  to  keep  him  any  longer,  that  I  made 
up  my  mind  I'd  best  put  him  whar  he'd  be  safe. 
Understand  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  understand  what  you  say,  but  I  do 
not  quite  understand  the  situation,"  answered  the 
colonel. 

"  No  more  do  I,"  said  the  squaw  man.  "  But  that's 
the  way  of  it.  If  the  boy  lives,  he'll  get  a  power  of 
money  some  of  these  days  ;  an'  if  he  don't,  the  dust 
will  go  to  them  that  ain't  got  no  business  to  have  it. 
Understand?" 

"  Perfectly.  The  boy  is  heir  to  a  big  property  that 
will  come  into  his  possession  when  he  is  twenty  one 
years  old." 

'And  you  are  afraid  to  keep  him  for  the  reason 
that  certain  other  claimants  may  try  to  put  him  out 
of  the  way,  so  that  they  can  inherit  the  whole  of  the 
property  themselves." 

"  That's  the  idee,"  said  the  squaw  man,  again. 
"Now,  will  you  do  it?" 

"I  wiH,"  replied  the  colonel,  readily.  "And  I 
will  also  take  care  that  you  don't  get  your  hands  on 
him  again,"  he  added  mentally.  "  I  don't  believe 
that  you  have  a  shadow  of  a  right  to  him." 


94  GILBEKT  THE  TRAPPER. 

"But  thar's  jest  this  here  about  it,"  continued  the 
squaw  man,  as  if  he  read  the  thoughts  that  were 
passing  through  the  officer's  mind.  "  Thai's  to  be  no 
plottin'  ag'in  the  Dutch  while  lie  is  in  your  hands. 
I'm  to  be  allowed  to  see  him  as  often  as  it  suits  me, 
which  will  be  often  enough  to  satisfy  me  that  he's  all 
right,  an'  ain't  been  spirited  off  to  the  States  ,  an'  he 
ain't  to  be  sent  off  this  here  reservation  without  my 
consent.  I  ain't  by  no  means  givin'  him  up  to  you 
for  good,  you  understand,  an'  I  wouldn't  give  him 
to  anybody  for  a  single  minute,  if  I  wasn't  scared 
that  some  harm  may  come  to  him  if  I  keep  him  my- 
self." 

"  Who  are  you,  any  way  ?"  asked  the  colonel,  sud- 
denly.     "I  never  saw  you  before." 

"That's  cause  you  ain't  been  here  long  enough  to 
get  acquainted  with  the  folks  on  the  reservation," 
was  the  reply.  "I  am  called  Grizzly  Pete,  an'  I'm 
one  of  the  best  scouts  an'  trailers  you  ever  see.  The 
major  who  was  here  before  you  took  command, 
Imowed  me  well.  I  used  to  be  post  hunter,  an'  now 
an'  then  I  done  a  trifle  in  tlie  way  of  interpretin' 
wdien  thar  was  a  council  held.  I  was  here  long  be- 
fore you  ever  heard  of  Fort  Shaw." 

"  How  long  ?"  inquired  the  officer. 

He  asked  the  question  carelessly  enough,  but  he 
waited  eagerly  for  the  answer.  Grizzly  Pete  looked 
stupid,  and  he  had  a  lazy,  drawling  way  of  talking  ; 
but  he  was  deep  and  sharp,  nevertheless,  and  in- 
stantly detected  the  trap  the  colonel  was  trying  to 
get  him  into. 

"  Oh,  a  long  time,"  replied  the  squaw  man.  "  As 
much  as  a  year  an'  a  half,  mebbe  a  little  longer." 

"Is  the  boy's  mother  living?"  asked  the  colonel. 

The  squaw  man  shook  his  head. 

"What  is  his  name?" 

"  Gilbert." 


GILBERT  THE  TEAPPEK.  95 

"Gilbert  what?" 

"  Gilbert  nothing.  I  call  myself  Axley,  when  I  call 
myself  anything  besides  Grizzly  Pete,  but  I  wouldn  t 
like  to  sw'ar  that  that's  my  name." 

"I  don't  see  why  yon  should  try  to  hide  your  name 
if  you  haven't  been  doing  anything  that  the  law  can 
take  hold  of,"  said  the  colonel.  "  But  I  suppose  that 
is  vour  own  business." 

"You've  hit  it,"  asseuted  the  squaw  man.  '  Can  t 
you  see  that  if  I  told  my  name  to  every  Tom  Dick  an 
Harry  I  might  make  myself  known  to  them  that  lm 
trvin'  to  dodge?     Well,  what  do  you  say?" 

"Haven't  I  already  told  you  that  I  will  take  the 

boy?" 

"Yes;  but  you  haven't  agreed  to  my  conditions. 
You  mustn't  take  or  send  him  off  the  reservation, 
an'  nuther  must  you  say  a  word  to  turn  him  agin  his 

paw."  }j       .-i.i  i 

"  I  don't  believe  you  are  his  father,     said  tne  col- 
onel. .,, 
"  Wal,  you  ain't  the  only  one  that  thinks  so,  it  it  will 
do  you  anv  good  to  know   it,"  replied  Grizzly  Pete. 
"  But  I'd  like  to  see  the  man  that's  able  to  prove  I 
ain't  his  paw,  so  I  would." 
"  Was  the  boy  born  here  ?  " 
"  No.     He  was  born  in  Californy." 
"Did  you  bring  him  to  the  reservation  when  you 
first  came  here  ?  " 

"  No,  I  just  brung  him.  You  see  I  wanted  to 
make  friends  with  the  Injuns  first,  so't  I'd  know  it 
was  safe  for  him  here.  Then  I  went  to  Californy  an 
got  him.  I've  jest  got  back  from  thar." 
3  Colonel  Starke  made  no  reply,  but  he  told  him- 
self that  his  first  hard  work  on  the  morrow  should 
be  to  prove  the  truth  or  falsity  of  this  statement. 
He  would  have  an  interview  with  the  agent,  and 
with  all  the  old  scouts  attached  to  the  post,  and  find 


96  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

out  something  about  this  man  who  called  himself 
Grizzly  Pete. 

"I'd  like  to  have  you  look  out  for  the  boy  as  long- 
as  you  stay  here,  an'  be  ready  to  turn  him  over  to 
me  v/hen  I  say  the  word,"  said  the  squaw  man, 
placing  the  child  upon  the  floor,  and  rising  to  his 
feet,  as  if  he  considered  the  contract  made.  "  When 
you  are  ordered  away,  111  see  the  officer  who  comes 
to  take  your  place,  an'  try  to  make  the  same  'range- 
men  ts  with  him.  If  anything  happens  to  me  that  I 
don't  never  call  for  him,  then  Gilbert  is  your'n  to 
keep,  if  you  want  him.  But  you'd  best  keep  a,n  eye 
on  him,  'cause  I  tell  you,  plain  as  I  can  say  it,  that 
thar  is  them  about  here  who'd  like  to  see  him  dead." 

So  saying,  Grizzly  Pete  set  the  boy  down  in  the 
chair  he  had  just  vacated,  nodded  to  the  colonel,  and 
went  out,  leaving  the  latter  almost  overwhelmed  with 
astonishment. 

"  It's  the  strangest  thing  I  ever  heard  of,"  solilo- 
quized Colonel  Starke,  after  he  had  made  several 
unavailing  efforts  to  induce  the  child  to  come  to 
him.  "  That  man's  story  is  a  lie  from  beginning  to 
end;  and  if  I  can  fasten  it  on  him,  he  will  never  get 
the  boy  again.  I  can  tell  him  that  much.  Nowr, 
what  shall  I  do  with  him  ?  That's  the  question,  and 
it  is  much  too  deep  for  me.  I  must  have  help.  Or- 
derly, tell  Mrs.  Starke  that  I  should  like  to  see  her." 

The  commandant  squared  around  in  his  chair  so 
that  he  could  take  a  good  look  at  the  boy  who  had 
been  so  unexpectedly  left  on  his  hands,  and  puffed 
vigorously  at  his  pipe  while  he  awaited  his  wife's 
coming. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  97 


CHAPTEE  XIV. 

COLONEL  STARKE's  WARD. 

Great  was  the  excitement  at  old  Fort  Shaw,  when 
the  events  which  I  have  described  in  the  preceding 
chapter  became  known  to  the  officers  and  men  who 
were  stationed  there.  The  former  declared,  as  one 
man,  that  Grizzly  Pete's  story  was  false  in  every  par- 
ticular; but  the  scouts,  notably  Arizona  Charley,  the 
bravest  and  best  of  them  all,  were  unanimously  of 
the  opinion  that  there  might  be  some  grains  of  truth 
in  it. 

"  This  here  is  a  great  country,  kurn,"  said  Charley, 
in  response  to  some  leading  questions  propounded 
to  him  by  his  commander;  "an'  there's  a  heap  of 
things  going  on  that  people  in  the  States  don't  never 
think  of.  I  don't  know  it  of  my  own  knowin',  but 
everybody  says  it's  a  fact  that  Pete  used  to  be  a  dif- 
ferent sort  of  man  from  what  he  is  now.  Where  he 
come  from,  an'  what  he  was  before  he  come  here,  I 
never  heard." 

"How  long  has  he  been  on  the  reservation?" 
asked  the  colonel. 

"  About  two  year,  I  should  say." 

"  But  he  has  lived  among  the  Indians  longer  than 
that." 

"Course  he  has.  Why,  bless  you,  that  there  man 
knows  the  country  about  here  as  well  as  I  do,  an' 
I've  been  trappin'  and  scoutin'  for  twenty  year  an' 
better." 


98  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

"That  is  just  what  I  want  to  get  at,"  said  the 
colonel.  "If  I  could  be  satisfied  that  Pete  has  been 
a  squaw  man  for,  say,  a  dozen  years,  then  I  should 
know  that  the  boy  does  not  belong  to  him,  and  I 
never  should  give  him  up." 

**  But  s'posin'  you  can't  prove  that  ?  " 

"  Then  I  shall  have  to  surrender  the  boy  when 
Pete  demands  him;  that's  all." 

"Well,  then,  that's  what  you  may  make  up  your 
mind  to  do,"  said  the  scout.  "  After  you  have  been 
on  the  plains  a  little  longer,  you  will  know  that  you 
can't  prove  anything  by  an  Injun,  an'  that  it  ain't 
worth  while  to  place  the  least  faith  in  what  a  squaw 
man  says.  There  can't  nary  a  one  of  'em  be  trusted. 
Pete's  got  a  pardner,  Buckskin  Bob,  an'  I  might  try 
to  get  something  out  of  bim  the  next  time  I  see  him; 
but  I  wouldn't  advise  you  to  put  the  smallest  de- 
pendence in  the  story  he  tells  me.  But  I'll  tell  you 
one  thing,  kurn,  an'  that  ain't  two:  if  you  have  the 
least  interest  in  finding  out  who  that  bo}-  is,  don't 
let  him  put  his  foot  off  this  reservation.  If  you  do, 
the  whole  business  will  be  knocked  in  the  head.  All 
the  evidence  he's  got  is  right  here,  somewheres;  an' 
right  here  he  had  better  stay." 

All  the  other  scouts  said  the  same  thing,  and  at 
last  the  officers  began  to  think  that  that  was  the 
only  thing  that  could  be  done.  Mrs.  Starke,  who 
took  the  motherless  little  fellow  to  her  heart  at  once, 
was  often  heard  to  declare  that  she  would  take  him 
to  the  States,  when  her  husband  was  ordered  to  an- 
other post,  and  see  him  educated ;  and  it  was  only 
after  repeated  interviews  with  Arizona  Charley  that 
she  could  be  induced  to  abandon  the  idea. 

"  I  am  positive  that  that  horrid  Grizzly  Pete,  as  he 
calls  himself,  has  no  claim  whatever  upon  Gilbert," 
was  her  constant  asseveration.  "Why,  just  look  at 
him,  and  then  look  at  that  man  who  claims  relation- 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  99 

ship  to  him,  the  next   time  you  meet  him!     I  am 
going  to  adopt  him  and  be  a  mother  to  him." 

"  That  shows  a  mighty  sight  of  goodness  on  your 
part,  Mrs.  Kuril,"  said  the  shrewd  old  scout.  "  But 
let  me  tell  you:  if  Gilbert  lives  to  be  twenty  one, 
he'll  be  older'n  he  is  now,  won't  he  ?  An'  jest  as  like 
as  not  he'll  be  wantin'  to  know  who  his  folks  was,  an' 
all  about  it.  You  wouldn't  like  to  have  him  think 
that  he  is  a  nobody,  'cause  he  ain't;  an'  nuther  would 
you  try  to  make  him  believe  that  he  belonged  to 
you,  'cause  there'd  be  something  right  in  there  "  (as 
Charley  said  this  he  laid  his  hand  over  his  heart), 
"that  would  tell  him  different." 

After  listening  to  a  few  arguments  like  this  from 
the  lips  of  the  old  scout,  Mrs.  Starke  gave  up>  the 
idea  of  adopting  the  little  waif,  but  she  did  not  re- 
lax her  efforts  to  discover  who  he  was,  and  where  he 
came  from.  During  the  rest  of  her  sojourn  at  Fort 
Shaw,  she  and  the  other  ladies  of  the  garrison  tried 
by  every  means  in  their  power,  by  the  most  ingeni- 
ously contrived  questions  and  suggestions,  to  awaken 
in  Gilbert's  mind  some  slight  recollection  of  the  past; 
but  they  finally  gave  it  up  in  despair. 

The  boy's  mind  was  a  blank.  He  could  tell  about 
things  that  happened  in  Grizzly  Pete's  tepee,  of  the 
bows  and  arrows  he  played  with,  and  the  ponies  he 
used  to  ride;  and  the  only  time  he  went  beyond  that, 
he  said  something  that  gave  color  to  the  squaw  man's 
story.  He  talked  about  a  long  journey  he  had  once 
made,  during  which  he  was  compelled  to  ride  so 
many  hours  in  his  father's  arms,  or  behind  him  on 
the  horse,  that  he  got  tired  out  and  couldn't  sleep. 

That  gave  the  death  blow  to  Mrs.  Starke's  hopes, 
and  even  forced  the  colonel  to  believe  that  Grizzly 
Pete  told  him  nothing  but  the  truth.  When  the 
hitter  was  relieved  of  his  command  and  ordered  to 
another  post  of  duty,  he  and  his  wife  took  a  tearful 


100  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

leave  of  Gilbert,  and  almost  their  last  act  was  to  ex- 
act a  promise  from  Arizona  Charley  that  he  would 
see  the  boy  taken  care  of. 

The  years  passed  away,  and  many  changes  took 
place  at  old  Fort  Shaw.  New  faces  appeared,  re- 
mained a  while,  and  then  gave  room  to  others;  but 
there  were  two  which  each  succeeding  commander 
was  sure  to  see  within  a  few  hours  of  his  arrival, 
those  of  Arizona  Charley  and  his  protege,  Gilbert 
the  trapper,  as  he  had  come  to  be  called. 

For  the  little  waif  had  grown  to  be  a  tall,  broad 
shouldered  youth,  and  under  the  old  scout's  faithful 
tuition  had  developed  into  an  enthusiastic  lover  of 
the  chase,  a  fearless  rider  and  an  expert  shot.  He 
knew  his  history,  too,  or  as  much  of  it  as  Arizona 
Charley  could  tell  him,  and  was  anxious  to  meet  face 
to  face  the  man  who  claimed  to  be  his  father. 

More  than  that  (and  this  is  something  I  do  not 
pretend  to  understand,  although  I  know  it  is  so),  as 
he  grew  in  j^ears,  he  seemed  to  acquire  the  power  to 
penetrate  deeper  and  deeper  into  his  past  life,  just 
as  the  man  who  is  climbing  a  hill  is  able  to  see  more 
and  more  of  the  road  over  which  he  has  come  with 
every  mile  he  gains  toward  the  top. 

"  I  know,  as  well  as  I  know  anything,  that  I  made 
that  long  journey  in  company  with  my  own  father," 
Gilbert  often  said.  "  But  he  left  me  all  of  a  sudden, 
and  what  became  of  him  I  don't  remember,  if  indeed 
I  ever  knew.  It  seems  to  me  that  he  put  me  to  bed 
one  night,  and  that  I  never  saw  him  afterwards. 
This  is  the  way  I  feel— as  if  there  was  a  fog  in  my 
mind  which  would  be  completely  cleared  away  by 
half  a  dozen  words." 

And  this  wras  a  good  explanation  of  his  mental 
condition,  as  subsequent  events  proved.  He  heard 
the  mystic  words  after  a  while,  but  he  wished  he 
hadn't. 


GILBERT  THE  TBAPPER.  101 


CHAPTER  XV. 

gilbert's  boyhood. 

During  the  years  of  which  I  have  spoken,  Gilbert 
had  not  been  tied  to  any  woman's  apron  strings. 
^Yhen  he  was  about  twelve  years  of  age,  there  came 
to  the  fort  a  crusty  old  commandant  who  did  not  pay 
quite  enough  attention  to  Gilbert  to  suit  Arizona 
Charley.  In  fact,  he  declared  that  he  couldn't  be 
bothered  with  a  brat  of  a  boy  whom  nobody  knew 
anything  about,  and  that  the  best  thing  Gilbert 
could  do  would  be  to  clear  himself  and  go  back  to 
hid  father's  tepee,  where  he  belonged. 

This  was  the  opportunity  for  the  old  scout,  who 
had  always  put  a  literal  construction  upon  Mrs. 
Starke's  parting  commands,  and  he  lost  no  time  in 
assuming  full  control  over  Gilbert's  actions.  He 
quit  the  government  employ,  gave  the  boy  a  pony, 
and  in  company  with  some  of  his  frontier  friends  set 
out  on  a  trading  expedition  to  the  Navajo  nation. 

Did  he  forget  the  arrangement  which  Colonel 
Starke  had  made  with  Grizzly  Pete,  that  Gilbert  was 
not  to  be  taken  or  sent  off  the  Ute  reservation  ?  Not 
at  all;  but  he  told  himself  that  Colonel  Starke  was 
not  in  command  at  Fort  Shaw  now,  and  it  was  high 
time  that  Gilbert  was  seeing  more  of  the  world  than 
he  was  able  to  see  about  the  agency.  If  Grizzly 
Pete  didn't  like  it,  he  might  help  himself,  if  he  could. 

The  adventures  that  befell  Gilbert  during  the 
three   years  that  he  was   absent  from   Fort   Shaw 


102  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER 

would  make  an  interesting  story  in  themselves;  but 
with  them  T  have,  at  present,  nothing  to  do.  It  will 
be  enough  to  say  that  the  expedition  proved  profi- 
table beyond  the  scout's  most  sanguine  expectations; 
that  he  and  Gilbert  hunted  and  trapped  for  a  whole 
year  in  the  Navajo  nation;  that  they  afterward  joined 
an  expedition  that  was  fitted  out  to  go  in  search  of 
a  ''Ship  of  Gold,"  reported  to  be  stranded  some- 
where in  the  desert. 

In  this  undertaking  brave  Arizona  Charley  lost 
his  life;  and  Gilbert  finally  found  his  way  back  to 
the  agency  at  the  head  of  a  mule  train,  which  was 
loaded  down  with  Navajo  blankets,  and  an  assort- 
ment of  Mexican  goods  which  find  ready  sale  among 
the  agency  Indians. 

Not  a  single  one  of  the  friends  in  whose  company 
he  left  Fort  Shaw,  came  back  with  him.  They  had 
become  scattered,  and  those  whom  he  had  employed 
to  help  him  bring  in  his  train  were  strangers  to 
everybody  about  the  post. 

As  for  Gilbert  himself,  his  most  intimate  friend 
would  not  have  recognized  him  at  first  glance.  He 
had  grown  wonderfully  tall  and  strong  during  the 
three  years  he  had  spent  in  the  saddle;  and  the  dress 
he  wore,  which  was  very  unlike  the  modest  suit  he 
had  on  when  he  went  away,  was  almost  as  good  as  a 
disguise. 

He  wore  the  costume  to  which  he  afterward  clung 
— buckskin  throughout,  with  the  exception  of  his 
head  covering,  which  was  a  sombrero  with  the  widest 
brim  anybody  ever  saw.  His  saddle  and  bridle  were 
made  and  ornamented  after  the  Mexican  fashion, 
and  his  weapons  were  the  finest  that  money  could 

buy. 

Gilbert  rode  to  the  headquarters  of  the  post 
trader,  and  dismounted  in  front  of  his  door,  which 
was  fairly  packed  with  curious  cowboys,   soldiers, 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  103 

and  squaw  men,  who,  having  heard  of  his  approach, 
were  assembled  there  to  wait  for  him.  There  were 
Indians  there,  too,  but  they  sat  back  in  the  store. 
Their  stoicism  would  not  permit  them  to  exhibit  any 
interest  in  the  new  comers. 

The  trader,  who  had  the  exclusive  right  to  trade 
at  that  post,  and  who  scented  big  profits  in  the  near 
future,  was  unaccountably  nervous  and  excited  as  he 
worked  his  way  toward  the  door.  "When  his  gaze 
fell  upon  the  fall,  broad  shouldered  figure  in  buck- 
skin, who  was  just  getting  out  of  his  saddle,  his  face 
brightened,  but  when  that  figure  turned  toward  him, 
he  stepped  back  out  of  sight. 

"  Pete,"  said  he,  in  a  suppressed  whisper,  address- 
ing himself  to  one  of  the  squaw  men,  "  that's  your  boy 
if  ever  I  saw  him.  He  has  come  back  rich.  He 
doesn't  need  any  of  the  fortune  that  is  hidden  in  the 
Sweetwater  Canyon." 

Grizzly  Pete  was,  both  at  that  time  and  always,  a 
typical  dime  novel  borderman;  but  he  was  a  very  dirty 
one.  His  hair,  which  fell  down  upon  his  shoulders, 
and  the  whiskers  that  covered  the  lower  part  of  his 
face,  were  so  matted  and  tangled  that  a  curry  comb 
could  hardly  have  made  an  impression  upon  them,  his 
hands  were  "never  clean,  and  taken  altogether  he  was 
the  very  personification  of  sbiftlessness. 

At  Pete's  suggestion,  his  partner,  Buckskin  Bob,  had 
held  several  interviews  with  Gilbert.  He  had  taken 
a  liking  to  him,  as  every  one  did  who  had  anything 
to  do  with  him,  and  he  was  in  favor  of  turning:  the 
papers  which  Pete  was  guarding  so  carefully  over 
to  somebody  who  could  read  them,  and  who  would 
assist  Gilbert  in  his  search  for  the  fortune  to  which 
he  was  entitled. 

This  proposition  made  Grizzly  Pete  furious,  and  he 
frightened  his  partner  by  threatening  to  ruinate  him, 
soul  and  body,  if  he  ever  mentioned  the  thing  again, 


104  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

"  But  I'll  tell  you  what's  a  fact,"  said  the  squaw 
man,  to  himself.  "  Thar's  got  to  be  something  done 
about  this  business.  Thar's  that  fortin',  wastin'  away 
in  the  canyon  writhout  doin'  nobody  no  good,  an' 
here's  me,  who  ought  to  have  had  it  spent  long  ago. 
I  wish  I  knowed  somebody  who  could  read  the 
Dutch  part  of  those  papers,  an'  who  would  go  snucks 
with  me  in  the  fortin'  after  we  find  it.  This  would 
be  the  best  kind  of  time  to  hunt  it  up  if  a  feller  only 
knowed  whar  to  go.  I've  suspicioned  for  a  long  while 
that  that  thar  Arizona  Charley  was  keepin'  a  close 
eye  on  me  an'  Bob,  an'  now  that  he  is  out  of  the  way, 
I'd  like  to  find  them  nuggets  an'  dust;  but  who  shall 
I  show  the  papers  to?  That's  the  p'int  that's  a  both- 
erin'  of  me  now." 

And  it  was  the  point  that  continued  to  bother  the 
squaw  man  for  months  aftarwar  d;  and  then  an  inci- 
dent happened  that  suggested  something  to  him. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  105 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  POST  TRADER'S  CURIOSITY  AROUSED. 

One  day,  when  Arizona  Charley  and  Gilbert  had 
been  absent  from  the  agency  about  two  months  a 
stranger  made  his  appearance,  accompanied  by  a  lot 
of  fine  horses.  Of  course  he  wanted  to  sell,  and  as 
he  was  willing  to  sell  cheap,  there  were  plenty  who 
were  willing  to  buy.  The  post  trader  was  his  prin- 
cipal customer,  and  when  the  stranger  went  away  a 
few  hours  later,  that  worthy  had  on  his  hands  a  score 
or  more  of  horses  which  he  knew  had  been  stolen 

somewhere.  ,  - 

Grizzly  Pete,  Buckskin  Bob,  and  a  few  others  of 
that  class,  acted  as  his  agents  in  disposing  of  the 
animals  at  distant  points,  and  the  whole  business 
was  conducted  so  quietly  that  no  one,  who  could 
have  interfered  with  it,  was  any  the  wiser  tor  it. 
Then  Grizzly  Pete,  to  use  his  own  expression,  Had 
the  trader  right  where  he  wanted  him.  Finding  him 
alone  in  his  store  one  day,  he  began  conversation 
with  him  in  this  way: 

«  Look  a  here,  Cap'n  Barton;  they  tell  me  that  one 
good  turn  deserves  another,  an'  since  lye  helped 
you  get  rid  of  them  bosses  that  was  stole,  I  want 
you  to  do  a  favor  for  me." 

« I  thought  I  had  settled  with  you  in  full,  replied 
the  trader.     "  How  much  more  do  I  owe  you  ? 

«  Nothing  more  but  your  good  will,  said  the  squaw 
man.     "  I  want  you  to  read  a  paper  for  me. 


106  GILBEKT  THE  TRAPPER, 

"  Oli ;  all  right.  I  thought  you  were  going  to  de- 
mand hush  money." 

"  I  ain't  that  sort  of  folks,  Cap'n  Barton,  an'  no- 
body knows  it  better'n  you  do,"  said  Grizzly  Pete, 
with  an  injured  air.  "  I  am  willin'  to  put  my  name 
to  a  paper,  an'  sw'ar  that  thar's  a  thousand  Injuns 
here  who  oughter  be  given  rations,  an'  powder  an' 
blankets  an'  sich,  but  I  keep  my  mouth  shet  about  it 
arterwards." 

"Provided  you  are  well  paid  for  it,"  added  the 
trader. 

"Wal,  yes;  I  don't  work  for  nothing,  an'  nuther 
do  you  sell  goods  for  nothing.  I  know  I  don't  look 
like  it,  but  my  name's  worth  a  heap  of  moiie}"  to 
some  folks.     Read  that." 

Captain  Barton  easily  read  the  paper  that  was 
placed  in  his  hands,  because  it  was  written  in  Eng- 
lish; but  he  could  not  make  any  sense  out  of  it.  It 
was  not  all  there. 

"  Give  me  the  rest  of  it,"  said  he. 

"I  can't;   'cause  why,  another  feller's  got  it." 

"Then  go  and  get  it.  You  might  as  well  ask  me 
to  tell  a  man's  age  by  looking  at  the  print  of  his 
foot  in  the  sand,  as  to  expect  me  to  make  head  or 
tail  of  a  paper  when  you  give  me  only  half  of  it," 
said  the  trader,  carelessly;  but  he  did  not  hand  the 
document  back,  for  he  was  interested  in  it.  The 
words  "thousand  dollars'  worth  of  dust  "  and  "cache 
my  valuables,"  caught  his  eye,  and  he  was  certain 
that  the  squaw  man  had  a  secret  to  tell  him. 

"  I  can  read  that  paper  myself,"  said  the  latter, 
"but  I  can't  read  this  one." 

He  passed  over  the  rest  of  the  cryptogram,  and 
then  the  trader  thought  he  began  to  understand  the 
matter.  He  glanced  at  the  papers,  and  saw  that  the 
same  name,  Gilbert  Hubbard  Nevins,  was  signed  to 
both  of  them. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  107 

"Pete,"  said  he,  in  a  suppressed  whisper,  "you 
might  as  well  own  up  now.  You  told  me  that  Gil- 
bert the  trapper  was  your  son,  and  he  isn't." 

"  Sho  !  "  exclaimed  the  squaw  man,  who  was  really 
surprised  at  the  trader's  penetration.  "  How  do  you 
make  that  out  ?  " 

"Do  you  take  me  for  a  blockhead?  "  was  the  angry 
response.  "I  have  susj^ected  it  for  a  long  time,  ever 
since  I  became  acquainted  with  you  and  Gilbert,  in 
fact,  and  eveiw  one  about  the  post  suspects  it.  Why, 
Pete,  you  are  a  blockhead  yourself,  if  you  imagine 
you  have  made  folks  believe  that  you  are  that  boy's 
father.  If  you  are,  what's  the  reason  you  don't  have 
something  to  do  with  him  ?  " 

"  Wal,  it's  jest  like  I  told  Colonel  Starke  when  I 
give  the  boy  into  his  keepin'  years  ago,"  replied 
Pete,  who  was  determined  to  hold  to  his  story  as 
long  as  he  could,  for  the  very  simple  reason  that  he 
could  not,  on  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  think  up 
another  to  substitute  for  it.  "I've  got  heaps  an' 
stacks  of  nuggets  an'  dust  coram'  to  me,  an' " 

"  Oh,  get  out !  "  exclaimed  the  trader,  in  tones  of 
disgust. 

"I  tell  you  it's  a  fact,"  protested  the  squaw  man. 
"  If  my  boy  lives,  he'll  get  it  when  he  is  twent}"  one 
years  old,  but  thar  is  folks  in  the  world  who  would 
like  to  see  him  put  out  of  the  way,  so't  they  can  get 
the  dust  themselves.  That's  the  reason  I  give  him 
up  to  Colonel  Starke — to  be  took  care  on  till  he  was 
old  enough  to  claim  his  rights." 

The  trader  heard  him  through,  and  as  soon  as  the 
squaw  man  ceased  speaking,  proceeded  to  pick  flaws 
in  his  story. 

"That  statement  won't  wash,"  said  he,  calmly. 
"Look  here,  Pete:  if  you  have  got  so  much  money 
coming  to  you,  why  don't  you  go  and  get  it  ?  " 

"Eh?"  exclaimed  the  squaw  man,  who,  sharp  as 


108  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

he  thought  he  was,  found  himself  cornered  at  the 
start. 

"  If  you  have  so  much  money  coming  to  you,  why 
don't  you  go  and  get  it  ?  "  repeated  the  trader,  sjDeak- 
ing  very  slowly.     "Can't  you  understand  that?" 

"Course  I  can.     I  don't  know  wdiar  it  is." 

"Does  Gilbert  know?" 

"No,  he  don't." 

"  Then  howT  is  he  to  get  his  property  when  he 
reaches  his  majority?  Is  any  one  coming  forward 
to  show  him  where  that  cache  is?  Now,  look  here:  I 
can  see  as  far  into  a  millstone  as  the  next  man,  I 
don't  care  where  he  comes  from.  You  have  been  up 
to  something — you  and  your  copper  colored  friends, 
and  I — I  know  better;  3011  have,"  said  the  trader, 
when  Pete  grew  red  in  the  face,  and  began  flourish- 
ing his  lists  over  the  counter.  "Now,  look  here:  I 
can't  follow  up  a  blind  trail,  and  what's  more  to  the 
point,  I  shan't  try.  There's  money  in  this  business, 
and  if  you  want  me  to  help  you  get  it,  you  must  tell 
me  the  truth  from  beginning  to  end.  If  that  don't 
suit  you,  take  your  papers  and  clear  out.  Who's 
got  the  rest  of  them  ?  " 

Pete  replied  that  his  partner,  Buckskin  Bob,  had 
them. 

"  That's  another  dead  give  away  on  you  ;  but  since 
you  have  taken  him  for  a  partner  you  can  go  to  him 
for  help.  I  tell  you  as  a  friend,  however,  that  you 
won't  get  it.  The  writing  on  that  smallest  paper  is 
written  in  a  language  that  no  one  on  this  reservation 
except  myself  can  read." 

If  Gus  and  Jerry  Warren  could  have  heard  these 
words,  how  they  would  have  opened  their  eyes ! 
Did  the  trader  know  wdiat  he  wras  talking  about,  or 
w7as  he  simply  trying  to  work  upon  the  squaw  man's 
credulity? 

"  Let  me  take  another  look  at  that  smallest  paper," 


GILBEKT  THE  TRAPPER.  109 

Continued  Captain  Barton,  helping  himself  to  one  of 
his  own  cigars,  and  pushing  another  across  the 
counter  toward  the  squaw  man.  He  examined  the 
cryptogram  very  closety,  or  pretended  to,  and  went 
on  :  "Yes,  sir;  ]  am  the  only  one  on  this  reserva- 
tion who  can  read  it.  Go  and  give  it  to  the  com- 
mandant, if  you  dare,  and  see  if  he  don't  kick  you 
out  of  his  quarters  for  trying  to  make  a  fool  of  him. 
He  would  say  at  once  that  there  was  nothing  in  it." 

"  But  thar  is  something  in  it,  ain't  thar  ? "  said 
Pete,  nervously. 

"  Ain't  there  ?  Well,  I  should  say  so.  Not  enough 
to  make  sense^  of,  to  be  sure,  but  enough  to  show  me 
that  we  hold  a  very  valuable  secret  in  our  hands,  if 
we  can  only  get  the  rest  of  the  paper  from  Buckskin 
Bob." 

"If  I'll  do  that  will  you  read  it  for  me  ?  "  asked 
the  squaw  man,  eagerly. 

"  That  depends  on  whether  or  not  you  are  willing 
to  tell  me  the  truth  about  the  whole  business.  I'll 
not  have  a  single  thing  to  do  with  it,  unless  you  tell 
me  just  how  the  thing  stands.  I  don't  suppose  that 
Bob  will  be  willing  to  give  up  his  part  of  the 
papers " 

"  Wal,  if  we've  got  to  have  'em,  I'll  get  'em  whether 
he's  willing  or  not,"  said  Grizzly  Pete,  savagely. 

"I  was  about  to  say,"  continued  the  trader,  "that 
Bub  may  not  be  willing  to  surrender  his  papers — I 
wouldn't  if  I  were  in  his  place — but  if  you.  can  in- 
duce him  to  bring  them  here  so  that  I  can  take  a 
copy  of  them,  it  will  do  just  as  well.  We  don't  care 
for  the  originals.  All  we  want  is  the  money.  Look 
here  :  who  cut  these  papers  in  two  ?  You  did.  All 
right.  Then  you  must  have  read  the  other  half  of 
this  letter.  Does  it  say  what  shape  the  valuables 
were  in,  and  how  much  they  were  worth  ?  " 

"  'Pears  to  me  that  thar  was  a  hundred  thousand 


110  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

dollars'  wuth  of  dust  and  nuggets,"  replied  the  squaw 
man,  reluctantly.  He  would  have  been  glad  to  keep 
the  trader  in  ignorance  upon  this  point,  but  the 
question  was  propounded  so  suddenly  that  he  could 
not  think  up  any  lie  to  fit  the  case. 

""Well,  now,  that's  a  tidy  sum,"  said  the  trader, 
opening  his  eyes.  "Fifty  thousand  dollars  apiece 
will  make  us  rich  ;  although  I  expect  to  have  more 
than  that  when  I  am  crowded  out  of  this  post  to 
make  room  for  a  new  man.  Now  I  am  ready  to  hear 
your  .story,"  he  added,  as  he  came  out  from  behind 
his  counter  and  closed  and  locked  the  front  doors. 
"Mind  you,  I  want  nothing  but  the  simple  truth. 
If  I  find  that  yon  are  playing  me  false,  I'll  drop  you 
like  a  hot  potato." 

"  But  will  you  keep  your  mouth  shet  about  it  ?  " 
inquired  the  squaw  man. 

"Why  should  I  go  and  blab  it?  Of  course  I  will 
keep  still.  I  came  out  here  to  make  money,  and  I 
would  as  soon  dig  it  out  of  the  ground  as  to  take  it 
over  the  counter.  Now  go  on.  Where  did  you  get 
those  papers  ?  No,  hold  on  a  minute.  What  sort  of 
a  cock  and  bull  story  did  you  tell  Colonel  Starke  ?  " 

"I  told  him  that  the  boy  was  mine,  that  he  had  a 
heap  of  money  coming  to  him,  that  there  was  folks 
in  the  world  who  wasn't  any  too  good  to  kill  him, 
an'  that  I  wanted  to  leave  him  at  the  fort  whar  he 
would  be  safe  an'  well  brought  up." 

"That  wasn't  the  truth,  of  course,"  said  Captain 
Barton.  "Now  look  here  :  what  was  your  object 
in  lying  to  him  like  that?" 

These  questions  brought  the  squaw  man  to  his 
narrative,  which  he  gave  substantially  as  follows  : 

A  good  many  years  ago — just  how  many  Grizzly 
Pete  could  not  remember,  but  it  must  have  been  a 
dozen,  at  least — he  and  Buckskin  Bob  led  a  party  of 
Indians  on  a  horse  stealing  expedition  to  the  Chey- 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  Ill 

enne  reservation.  Unfortunately  for  them,  they 
were  decoyed  into  an  ambush,  and  lost  half  then- 
number  before  they  could  get  out.  Of  course  that 
made  them  desperate,  and  they  vowed  that  they 
would  never  return  to  their  people  until  they  had 
taken  revenge  on  somebody,  and  secured  scalps  and 
plunder  enough  to  recompense  them  for  the  heavy 
punishment  they  had  received. 

The  numerous  trails  they  crossed  while  they  were 
making  their  way  slowly  back  to  their  reservation, 
warned  them  that  the  troops  were  abroad  ;  and  this 
was  the  only  thing  that  restrained  them  from  attack- 
ing all  the  ranches  that  lay  in  their  course,  and 
leaving  death  and  destruction  behind  them. 

At  last  fate  threw  in  their  way  a  party  of  eight 
miners,  who  were  journeying  across  the  plains  with 
their  pack  males.  This  afforded  them  the  opportu- 
nity for  which  they  were  wraiting,  and  they  were 
prompt  to  seize  upon  it.  After  an  hour's  fighting, 
for  the  miners  were  well  armed,  and  fought  as  brave 
men  always  do  when  they  know  that  they  must  con- 
quer or  die,  the  party  were  all  killed  with  the  ex- 
ception of  a  little  boy,  whose  life  Grizzly  Pete  saved 
at  the  imminent  risk  of  losing  his  own. 

AVhat  it  was  that  prompted  him  to  interfere,  the 
squaw  man  said  he  didn't  know  ;  for  he  was  not  then 
aware  that  the  boy  had  anything  of  value  about  him, 
except  the  little  gold  locket  that  was  promptly 
snatched  away  by  one  of  the  Indians.  This  induced 
the  squaw  men  to  look  in  his  pockets,  and  they 
finall}-  brought  to  light  the  papers  which  the  boy's 
dead  father  had  pat  there  only  two  days  before.  Mr. 
Nevins  hoped,  as  he  said  in  his  letter,  that  if  he  were 
killed  by  his  companions,  the  papers  might  fall  into 
the  hands  of  some  honest  man,  who  would  see  that 
his  boy  got  his  rights. 

Of  course  Pete  and  his  partner  read  the  letter, 


112  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

but  tliey  could  not  decipher  the  cryptogram,  and  so 
they  tried  to  induce  their  little  captive  to  lead  them 
back  to  the  places  where  the  miners  had  camped  for 
a  few  nights  back  ;  but  he  didn't  know*  enough  to 
do  it,  and  the  Indians  could  not  follow  the  trail  the 
miners  had  made,  for  a  pelting  rain  storm  had 
washed  awa}T  all  traces  of  it.  Their  failure  to  find 
the  place  where  the  treasure  was  hidden  made  the 
Indians  angry,  and  it  was  only  by  making  promises 
which  they  knew  they  never  could  fulfill,  that  Pete 
and  his  partner  induced  them  to  spare  the  boy's  life. 

"  What  sort  of  promises  did  you  make  them  ? " 
inquired  the  trader. 

"  Why,  we  told  them  that  we'd  take  the  papers 
home  an'  study  'em  out ;  an'  when  we'd  got  to  the 
bottom  of  'em,  we'd  let  the  Injuns  know  it.  Wal, 
them  reds  ain't  forgot  that  yet,  not  by  a  long  shot. 
A  Injun  may  forget  every  promise  he  makes  you, 
but  you  can  bet  your  bottom  dollar  that  he  won't 
never  disremember  an}*  that  you  make  him.  They've 
often  called  on  me  an'  Bob  to  know  what  them 
papers  said  to  us  ;  but  we've  allers  told  'em  that  the 
medicine  that  was  writ  onto  'em  was  too  deep  for 
white  folks  to  study  out  in  a  minute,  an'  that  we'd 
have  to  have  more  time.  An'  right  thar's  goin'  to 
be  a  pinch  that  mebbe  you  ain't  thought  of,  cap'n. 
When  we  go  up  the  canyon  to  dig  up  them  nuggets 
an'  dust,  thar'll  be  Injuns  watchin'  of  us." 

••Well,  after  you  read  those  papers,  or  one  of 
them,  you  cut  them  in  two  and  gave  Bob  half  of 
each  as  a  mere  matter  of  form,  I  suppose  ?  "  said  the 
trader. 

••Not  much,"  exclaimed  the  squaw  man.  "We 
divided  'em  so't  nary  one  couldn't  get  the  plunder 
without  the  other's  bein'  knowin'  to  it." 

•-  That's  what  I  meant.  Now  look  here  :  what 
made  you  give  the  boy  to  the  colonel  ?  " 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  113 

"  For  the  same  reason  that  made  me  hide  my  shar' 
of  the  papers  in  a  holler  tree  whar  nobody  couldn't 
ever  find  'em,"  said  Grizzly  Pete,  with  a  knowing 
wink.  "Bob  allers  does  the  squar'  thing  when  it 
comes  to  dividing  the  spelter  we  get  in  huntin'  an' 
trappin',  and  I  ain't  got  no  fault  to  find  with  the 
way  he  carries  himself  in  a  fight ;  but  it  ain't  safe 
to  trust  him  too  fur  when  thar's  hard  money  to  be 
had  for  the  diggin'  of  it  up.  I  didn't  like  the  way 
he  acted  arter  we  got  that  boy  in  our  hands,  an'  I 
looked  for  nothing  but  to  see  him  skip  out  with  him 
some  night.  That's  why  I  took  him  to  the  col- 
onel." 

"  I  don't  see  what  good  it  would  have  done  to  run 
the  boy  off,"  observed  the  trader.  "He  doesn't 
know  where  his  folks  live,  and  how  was  he  to  find 
out  anything  about  him  ?  " 

"  Wal,  you  see  I  didn't  know  what  was  writ  onto 
that  smallest  paper.  'Cordin'  to  my  way  of  thinkin', 
the  man  who  can  read  that  will  have  the  whole  thing 
into  his  own  hands." 

"  That's  the  way  I  look  at  it,  too  ;  but  Bob  had 
only  half  the  paper,  and  that  wasn't  enough  to  give 
him  any  very  valuable  information." 

"  More'n  that,"  continued  the  squaw  man,  "I  have 
allers  had  an  idee  that  if  Bob  could  cipher  out  that 
paper,  he'd  go  for  that  money,  an'  leave  me  to  whistle 
for  my  shar'." 

"  That's  just  the  way  you  intend  to  serve  him,  isn't 
it?" 

"  What  else  can  I  do  ?  "  demanded  Pete.  '-'What's 
the  use  of  them  nuggets  layin'  thar  under  the  ground 
without  doin' no  good  to  anj^body?  Bob  couldn't 
help  me,  and  so  I  had  to  look  out  for  somebody  else." 

"  I  can't  for  the  life  of  me  see  what  your  object 
was  in  holding  fast  to  the  boy,  and  claiming  him  as 
your  own,"  said  Captain  Barton,  after  a  little  pause. 


114  GILBEKT  THE  TRAPPER 

"Why  didn't  you  let  Mrs.  Starke  have  him  and  carry 
him  off  to  the  States,  as  I  hear  she  wanted  to  do  ?  " 

"  'Cause  I  thought  that  mebbe  I  could  make  some- 
thing outen  him  when  he  got  bigger,"  answered  the 
squaw  man.  "  I  didn't  know  but  he  would  remem- 
ber where  that  money  was  hidden." 

"That  was  a  bright  idea,"  exclaimed  the  trader. 
"If  he  ever  recalls  the  incidents  of  those  days,  it 
won't  be  the  money  he  will  think  of.  It  will  be  the 
massacre  of  his  father  and  his  companions." 

«Sh !"    exclaimed  the  squaw  maw,  who  was 

greatly  terrified  by  the  mere  mention  of  such  a  thing. 
"  Don't  speak  them  words  out  loud." 

"  Well,  I  am  telling  you  the  truth,  ain't  I  ?  It  is 
the  greatest  wonder  in  the  world  that  the  whole 
thing  hasn't  become  known  before  this  time.  But 
it  is  bound  to  come  out,  you  may  be  sure  of  that. 
Some  day,  when  the  Indians  come  to  the  agency  to 
draw  their  rations,  some  fool  among  them  will  jump 
into  the  ring  when  they  are  having  a  dance,  to  boast 
of  the  big  things  he  has  done  in  battle,  and,  before 
anybody  can  stop  him,  he  will  tell  the  whole  story 
from  beginning  to  end." 

"Don't!  "  gasped  the  squaw  man,  leaning  heavily 
upon  the  counter,  and  casting  frightened  glances 
into  every  corner  of  the  dark  store,  as  if  momenta- 
rily expecting  to  see  some  eavesdropper  spring  up 
and  confront  him.  "I  don't  like  to  hear  sich  words 
as  them,  I  tell  you." 

"  I  don't  wonder  at  it,"  said  the  trader.  "  But  you 
have  been  trying  to  hide  things  from  me,  and  I  want 
you  to  see  that  you  can't  do  it.  If  I  had  been  with 
you  when  you  killed  those  miners,  and  had  stuck 
close  to  Gilbert's  side  ever  since,  I  could  not  under- 
stand this  matter  better  than  I  do  now.  Now  look 
here  :  If  you  want  to  drop  Bob  and  take  me  in  his 
place,  go  and  tell  him  to  come  here  with  those  papers. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  115 

I  don't  care  what  kind  of  a  story  you  have  to  make 
up  to  induce  him  to  do  it,  but  bring  him  here." 

So  saying,  the  trader  opened  one  of  the  doors, 
and  Grizzly  Pete  made  all  haste  to  retreat  through 
it.  He  was  glad  to  get  out  into  the  open  air.  Cap- 
tain Barton's  words  had  vividly  recalled  to  mind 
some  things  that  he  had  tried  hard  to  forget,  and  he 
was  anxious  to  hide  himself  away  in  his  tepee  before 
his  countenance  betrayed  him. 


116  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

KNAVES     IN     COUNCIL. 

"  Or  all  the  strange  things  that  ever  happenefl 
since  the  world  began,  this  is  the  strangest,"  solilo- 
quized the  trader,  when  he  saw  the  squaw  man 
mount  his  pony  and  ride  away.  "  So  the  secret, 
which  all  the  people  about  the  post  have  for  years 
been  trying  to  fathom,  is  out  at  last,  and  I've  got  it 
in  my  keeping !  Something  tells  me  that  this  busi- 
ness had  better  be  hurried  up  and  got  through  with 
before  Arizona  Charley  and  Gilbert  return  from  the 
Navajo  nation  ;  for  if  it  isn't,  I  don't  believe  it  will 
be  done  at  all.  If  Gilbert  isn't  ready  to  spring 
something  on  Pete  and  Bob  the  very  minute  he  gets 
back,  I  shall  miss  my  guess.  I  wish  I  had  thought 
to  take  a  copy  of  that  smallest  paper,  so  that  I  could 
study  on  it  between  times.  It's  the  queerest  look- 
ing writing  I  ever  saw." 

But  as  the  trader  had  not  thought  to  take  a  copy 
of  the  important  document,  he  was  obliged  to  wait, 
with  as  much  patience  as  he  could,  till  Grizzly  Pete 
came  back  with  his  partner.  He  had  ample  leisure 
to  think  over  the  strange  story  to  which  he  had  lis- 
tened, and  to  lay  out  plaus  for  the  investment  of  his 
share  of  the  miner's  treasure,  for  it  was  three  days 
before  the  squaw  man  made  his  appearance,  in  com- 
pany with  Buckskin  Bob.  Fortunately  the  trader 
was  alone,  and  Pete  took  the  liberty  to  close  and 
lock  the  door. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER."  117 

"  I  had  the  hardest  kind  of  work  to  get  Bob  to 
come  here  with  me,"  said  the  squaw  man,  beginning 
the  conversation  before  Captain  Barton  had  time  to 
open  his  lips,  "  'cause  he  thinks  I  am  layin'  a  scheme 
to  come  some  kind  of  a  trick  onto  him.  I  want  you 
to  tell  him  jest  what  I  said  to  you  when  I  showed 
you  them  papers  t'other  day.  Did  I  say  one  word 
about  cheatin'  Bob  outen  his  shar'  of  them  dust  and 
nuggets  ?  " 

"  You  never  so  much  as  hinted  at  it,"  replied  the 
trader. 

"  How  did  I  tell  you  that  we  come  by  them  papers, 
anyhow?"  continued  Grizzly  Pete.  "Didn't  I  say — ■ 
arter  you  had  told  me  that  you  knowed  well  enough 
that  the  boy  wasn't  mine,  an'  that  I  needn't  waste  my 
time  tryin'  to  make  you  think  so — didn't  I  own  up 
an'  tell  you  the  whole  truth  ?  " 

"You  certainly  did,"  answered  Captain  Barton; 
and  then  he  waited  for  the  squaw  man  to  go  on  and 
say  what  he  had  told  him. 

"Didn't  I  say,"  continued  Grizzly  Pete,  "that  one 
day  when  me  an'  Bob  an'  some  of  our  Injuns  was 
out  huntin',  we  heard  a  turrible  whoopin'  an'  yellin' ; 
that  we  run  up  to  see  what  the  matter  was,  an'  found 
that  a  lot  of  Cheyennes  had  surrounded  a  party  of 
miners,  an'  was  a  givin'  of  'em  particular  iits?  An' 
didn't  I  tell  you,  furder,  that  we  commenced  a  fight 
with  them  Cheyennes  that  lasted  two  days,  an'  that 
when  we  drove  'em  off,  we  found  that  they  had  killed 
eveiw  one  of  them  miners  'ceptin'  one  little  boy,  who 
had  them  papers  that  I  showed  you,  into  his 
pocket  ? " 

The  trader  was  sharp  enough  to  see  at  once  why 
the  squaw  man  had  cooked  up  this  story.  He  wanted 
his  susjncious  partner  to  believe  that  he  had  made 
an  honest  effort  to  throw  the  blame  for  the  mas.sacre 
(if  it  should  ever  be  found  out)  upon  the  shoulders 


118  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

of  the  Clieyennes,  who  were  the  Utes'  hereditary 
enemies. 

There  was  little  danger  that  the  matter  would  be 
traced  home  to  members  of  the  Ute  tribe,  because 
the  massacre  took  place  so  many  years  ago  ;  but  if 
it  should  be,  there  might  be  an  investigation  held 
which  would  result  in  showing  that  Pete  Axley  and 
his  friend  Bob  were  as  deep  in  the  mud  as  any  of 
the  Indians  were.  This  was  what  Captain  Barton 
told  himself,  as  he  unhesitatingly  bore  testimony  to 
the  truthfulness  of  the  squaw  man's  statement. 

"The  Cheyennes  was  to  blame  for  the  death  of 
them  miners,  an'  not  our  Injuns,"  Grizzly  Pete  went 
on,  "  an'  that's  what  I  told  you.  I  said,  f urder,  that 
the  reason  me  an'  Bob  held  fast  to  the  boy  was 
'cause  we  thought  he  might  be  able  to  tell  us  some- 
thing about  the  dust  an'  nuggets  when  he  got 
bigger,  an'  we  might  as  well  have  it  as  anybody, 
seein'  that  his  paw  was  dead.  An'  I  took  him  to  the 
colonel,  so't  the  Injuns  couldn't  give  him  up  as  a 
pris'ner  if  the}-  took  a  notion  to  make  a  treaty  of 
any  sort  with  the  gov'munt.     Is  that  so,  cap'n?" 

The  trader  said  it  was  all  so. 

"I  held  out  the  idee  that  Gilbert  was  my  boy," 
said  the  squaw  man,  in  conclusion,  "'cause  thai* 
wasn't  nobody  about  the  agency  to  sw'ar  he  wasn't, 
seein'  that  they  didn't  know  wTho  or  wdiat  I  was  afore 
I  come  yer.  If  any  of  the  boy's  folks  had  found  out 
whar  he  wras,  me  an'  Bob  could  have  held  out  our 
hands  for  the  reward  they  would  have  been  willin' 
to  pay  to  get  him  back,  an'  we'd  a  had  the  nuggets 
an'  dust,  too,  as  soon  as  we  found  out  whar  they  was 
hid.     I  call  it  a  good  scheme,  cap'n  ;  don't  you?" 

The  trader  nodded,  whereupon  Grizzly  Pete  turned 
to  his  partner,  and,  hitting  him  a  back  handed  blow 
in  the  breast  that  would  have  floored  an  ordinary 
man,  said,  triumphantly  : 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  119 

"Thar,  now;  I  hope  you're  satisfied  that  I  ain't 
tryin'  to  come  no  tricks  on  yon,  ain't  you?  " 

Buckskin  Bob  replied  that  he  was  perfectly  satis- 
fied ;  but  his  face  told  a  different  story. 

"Wal,  then,"  continued  Grizzly  Pete,  "if  you're 
satisfied  that  I  ain't  tryin'  to  come  no  tricks  on  you 
to  cheat  you  out  en  your  shar'  of  the  stuff  that's  hid 
in  that  canyon,  pull  out  them  dokyments  so't  the 
cap'n  can  take  a  copy  of  'em.  Thar's  mine,"  he 
added,  placing  his  own  papers  upon  the  counter  in 
front  of  the  trader. 

Buckskin  Bob  reluctantly  complied,  at  the  same 
time  remarking  that  he  couldn't  see  why  it  was 
necessary  that  the  captain  should  have  a  copy  of  the 
papers.  If  he  could  read  them,  what  was  the  reason 
he  did  not  do  it  at  once  ? 

"  I've  explained  that  to  you  more'n  a  hundred  times 
already,"  answered  Pete,  impatiently.  "  It's  like 
what  we  told  the  Injuns  :  the  words  that's  writ  onto 
one  of  them  papers  is  big  medicine,  that  can't  be  read 
as  soon  as  you  look  at  em.  Ain't  that  so,  cap'n? 
Thar's  a  hidden  meanin'  to  'em  that's  got  to  be 
studied  out  a  letter  at  a  time,  an'  the  cap'n  is  the 
only  man  on  the  reservation  that  can  do  it.  Ain't 
that  so,  cap'n  ?  " 

"  It  is  nothing  but  the  truth,"  was  the  reply,  "  and 
to  prove  it,  I  am  willing  that  Bob  should  take  a  copy 
of  it  to  any  officer  or  civilian  about  the  post,  and  ask 
him  to  make  sense  of  it.  I  don't  expect  to  do  it  my- 
self under  a  week  or  two,  and  shall  think  myself 
lucky  if  I  work  it  out  in  that  time.  There's'  one 
question  I  forgot  to  ask  you  :  have  you  made  any 
effort  to  find  this  treasure?" 

"Wal,  I  reckon,"  replied  Buckskin  Bob.  "  Wouldn't 
you  have  looked  that  canyon  over  a  dozen  time-  if 
you  had  known  thar  was  a  hundred  thousand  dollars' 
wuth  of  nuggets  an'  dust  somewheres  in  it?     But 


120  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

our  lookin'  didn't  do  no  good.  The  secret  of  it  is 
right  in  them  thar  words,"  added  Bob,  placing  his 
finger  upon  the  cryptogram.  "  How  much  be  we 
goin  to  give  you  for  readin'  it  for  us  ?  " 

"Whatever  you  please,"  added  the  trader,  readily. 
"  But  I  shall  earn  a  third  of  it  before  I  am  able  to 
tell  you  what  is  written  on  these  papers." 

He  put  the  two  pieces  of  the  letter  together  and 
read  it  very  easily  ;  but  the  cryptogram  bothered 
him.  He  scratched  his  head  in  deep  perplexity 
while  he  looked  at  it.  He  had  never  seen  or  heard 
of  one  before,  and  was  utterly  at  a  loss  to  know  how 
to  go  to  work  to  solve  it.     The  letter  ran  as  follows  : 

Sweetwater  Canyon,  Aug.  16, 18—. 
I  started  from  the  mines  six  weeks  ago  in  company  with  my 
little  boy,  Gilbert  Hubbard  Nevins,  and  seven  men,  whom  I 
thought  to  be  my  friends,  to  cross  the  plains  on  my  way  home. 
My  wife  died  almost  a  year  ago,  and  I  could  not  stay  away 
from  my  friends  any  longer.  I  lived  in  Clayton,  Mass.  I  have 
worked"  hard,  and  saved  nearly  a  hundred  thousand  dollars' 
worth  of  dust  and  nuggets,  and  brought  it  with  me  on  a  pack 
mule.  Since  I  started  I  have  grown  suspicious  of  my  compan- 
ions, three  of  whom  are  none  too  good  to  knock  me  on  the 
head  in  order  to  obtain  possession  of  my  hard  earned  treasure. 
I  have  begun  to  fear  I  shall  never  see  the  Stales  alive  ;  and 
this  feeling  has  so  worked  upon  me  of  late,  that  I  decided  to 
cache  my  valuables,  and  have  done  so  tonight  while  standing 
guard,  all  my  companions  being  asleep.  If  I  fall  bv  the  hands 
of  my  associates,  the  inclosed  cryptogram  will  tell  the  person 
into  whose  possession  it  may  fall,  if  he  is  smart  enough  to  read 
it,  where  my  wealth  may  be  found.  I  pray  Heaven  that  it  may 
fall  into  the"  hands  of  some  honest  man  who  will  see  that  my 
boy  gets  his  rights.  Gilbert  Hubbard  Nevins. 

The  letter  was  short  and  to  the  point,  and  the 
trader  thought  it  read  as  though  it  had  been  written 
with  an  icicle.  But  the  miner,  writing  in  haste,  and 
in  the  midst  of  men  whom  he  believed  to  be  hostile 
to  him,  had  no  time  to  indulge  in  sentiment.  He  left 
that  to  the  one  who  found  his  letter. 

"  Now  thar's  two  things  that  I  can't  see  into,"  said 
Buckskin  Bob,  as  the  trader  returned  from  the 
back  part  of  the  store  with  writing  materials  in  his 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPEK.  121 

baud.  "  One  is,  why  that  man  Nevins,  if  that's  his 
name,  put  them  papers  into  Gilbert's  pocket.  How 
did  he  know  that  the  boy  wouldn't  be  killed  as  well 
as  himself  ?  " 

"He  didn't  know  it,"  replied  Captain  Barton. 
"  He  took  his  chauces  on  it.  That  was  all  he  could 
do.  You  wouldn't  have  had  him  put  the  papers  into 
the  cache  with  the  nuggets,  would  you  ?  If  he  had 
done  that,  you  never  would  have  found  them." 

"  That's  so,"  said  Bob,  thoughtfully.  "  But  still  he 
might  as  well  have  done  it,  as  to  go  to  work  an'  kiver 
up  the  hidin'  place  of  his  money  in  sich  words  as  them 
he  has  put  into  that  smallest  paper.  That's  the  other 
thing  I  can't  see  into." 

The  trader  said  he  couldn't  see  into  it  either;  and 
then  he  told  himself,  confidentially,  that  he  had  a 
pretty  clear  idea  of  the  object  he  had  in  view  when 
he  wrote  the  thing  he  called  a  cryptogram. 

Mr.  Nevins  of  course  knew  that  his  companions 
would  not  take  time  to  study  it  out,  and  that  no  ig- 
norant person  could  do  it.  His  only  hope  was  that, 
if  anything  happened  to  himself,  his  bo}',  as  well  as 
the  papers  that  were  sewed  fast  in  his  pocket,  would 
fall  into  the  hands  of  some  army  officer  who  would 
take  interest  enough  in  the  matter  to  work  out  the 
cryptogram,  hunt  up  the  buried  treasure,  and  see  that 
Gilbert  was  established  in  his  rights. 

If  his  fears  proved  to  be  unfounded,  if  he  reached 
the  States  alive  and  unharmed,  he  could  take  his  boy 
home,  come  back  to  Sweetwater  Canyon,  and  the 
cryptogram  would  guide  him  to  the  place  where  his 
nuggets  were  concealed. 

Captain  Barton  made  careful  copies  of  both  the 
letter  and  the  cryptogram,  returned  the  papers  to 
the  squaw  men,  gave  each  of  them  a  cigar,  and  saw 
them  ride  away  toward  their  tepees.  Then  ho  set 
himself  to  the   hardest  task  he  had  ever  undertaken. 


122  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

Half  a  dozen  words  from  any  bright  schoolboy  would 
have  put  him  on  the  right  track  at  once  ;  but  not 
knowing  where  to  begin,  he  was  as  helpless  as  one 
who  canuot  swim  is  in  deep  water. 

Days  grew  into  weeks  and  weeks  into  months,  and 
Captain  Barton  made  no  progress  whatever  with  his 
work  ;  but  he  succeeded  in  arousing  the  ire  as  well 
as  the  suspicions  of  Pete  Axley  and  his  friend,  Buck- 
skin Bob,  who  told  each  other  that  their  new  ally 
was  up  to  something. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  his  game  is,"  said  Pete  one  day, 
after  the  trader  had  assured  them  that  he  was  work- 
ing hard,  but  to  no  purpose,  to  get  at  the  bottom  of 
the  mystery.  "  He  is  layin'  a  scheme  to  get  the  last 
one  of  them  nuggets  an'  all  the  dust  for  himself.  I'll 
bet  you  he  knows  what's  writ  onto  that  little  paper 
afore  this  time,  but  he's  holdin'  of  it  back  from  us  ; 
an'  when  the  time  comes  for  a  new  trader  to  take  his 
place,  then  Cap'n  Barton  will  toddle  out  to  that 
canyon,  dig  up  them  nuggets  an'  put  for  the  States." 

"  No,  he  won't,"  answered  Bob,  "  cause  then  we'll 
pop  him  over  so  easy  that  he'll  never  know  what  hurt 
him.  I  didn't  go  in  for  givin'  nobody  a  copy  of  them 
papers,  an'  I  told  you  so." 

"  \Val,  the  cap'n  dassent  tell  nobody  of  it,  'cause 
if  he  does,  we'll  take  pains  to  see  that  the  marshal 
hears  about  them  hoss  trades  of  his'n.  The  papers 
wasn't  no  good  to  us,  an'  I  hoped  the  trader  would 
be  able  to  read  'em  for  us.  I  say  ag'in  that  I  think 
he  has  done  it,  but  that  he  don't  mean  to  let  me  an' 
you  get  no  benefit  from  it." 

But  the  squaw  men  were  mistaken  ;  they  wronged 
the  trader.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  Captain  Bar- 
ton would  not  have  appropriated  the  entire  contents 
of  the  cache  to  his  own  use,  if  he  could  have  seen  any 
way  to  do  it  without  risk  to  himself  ;  but  he  couldn't. 
He  worked  hard  and  faithfully  at  the  cryptogram, 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  123 

and  with  no  thought  of  attempting  a  fraud  upon  the 
squaw  men,  but  the  writing  defied  all  his  efforts.  It 
kept  the  secret  that  had  been  confided  to  it. 

At  the  end  of  six  months  Captain  Barton  became 
quite  disgusted  with  his  failure  to  solve  the  crypto- 
gram, banged  the  lid  of  his  desk  upon  it  and  the 
letter,  and  nearly  got  himself  into  serious  trouble 
with  Pete  Axley  by  denouncing  him  and  his  partner 
as  frauds  of  the  worst  sort.  He  told  them  that  there 
was  not  a  word  of  truth  in  their  story,  that  they  had 
deliberately  deceived  him,  and  that  they  and  Gilbert 
and  the  nuggets  and  everything  else  that  was  in  the 
cache  might  go  to  Guinea  together,  before  he  would 
bother  his  head  about  them  any  more. 

Of  course  this  made  Grizzly  Pete  and  Buckskin 
Bob  desperately  angry,  but  they  did  not  "  boycott  " 
the  trader  on  account  of  it,  for  his  store  was  too 
good  a  loafing  place,  and  there  was  no  one  else  about 
there  who  would  trust  them  for  tobacco.  They  hung 
around  him  just  as  they  had  always  done,  hoping  al- 
most against  hope  that  some  fine  day  something 
would  "  turn  up  "  in  their  favor,  and  they  often  sur- 
prised Captain  Barton  with  a  pencil  in  his  hand  and 
a  piece  of  paper  before  him,  working  upon  the  cryp- 
togram. This  always  encouraged  them,  for  it  proved 
that  the  trader  still  clung  to  the  idea  that  he  could 
probe  the  mystery  to  the  bottom. 

Three  years  passed  away,  and  during  that  time  all 
the  officers  of  the  garrison  who  were  stationed  there 
when  Gilbert  the  trapper  went  to  the  Navajo  nation, 
had  been  ordered  to  other  posts,  many  of  the  old 
government  scouts  had  disappeared,  but  Captain 
Barton  and  the  squaw  men  still  remained. 

One  da}r,  while  the  store,  as  usual,  was  full  of 
hangers  on,  the  express  rider  emplo3*ed  to  carry 
the  mail  once  a  week  between  the  agency  and  Ma- 
rengo, reported  that  on  his  way  up  he  had  passed  a 


124  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

heavily  loaded  mule  train,  which  was  heading  toward 
Fort  Shaw. 

"  I  didn't  know  any  of  them,"  said  the  rider,  "  but 
the  head  man  told  me  that  he  belonged  here  ;  that 
this  reservation  is  the  only  home  he  has  now,  though 
he  used  to  have  another  down  in  Californy.  He 
ain't  nothing  but  a  brat  of  a  boy,  but  he's  light- 
ning. He's  been  down  to  the  Navajo  nation  trading, 
and  since  he's  been  gone  he's  lost  his  partner,  Ari- 
zona Charley,  and  picked  up  another  that  ain't  no 
slouch,  if  there's  any  faith  to  be  put  in  looks.  Know 
him,  any  of  you  ?  M 

Yes,  there  were  three  men  who  recognized  Gil- 
bert the  trapper  in  this  meager  description  of  the 
"  head  man  "  of  the  train,  but  they  were  so  surprised 
to  hear  this  sudden  and  unexpected  announcement 
of  his  return  to  the  agency,  that  for  a  moment  or 
two  they  could  not  reply  to  the  express  rider's  ques- 
tion. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  125 


CHAPTER    XYI1I. 

GILBERT    SURPRISES    THE    SQUAW    ilEN. 

During  the  three  years  that  Gilbert  the  trapper 
had  been  absent  from  the  reservation  he  had  never 
once  been  forgotten  by  the  men  who  were  interested 
in  him  and  his  fortunes  ;  but  he  had  been  so  long- 
away  that  they  began  to  fear  they  should  not  hear 
from  him  again. 

Since  Grizzly  Pete  took  Captain  Barton  into  his 
confidence,  the  trader  had  been  impatient  for  the 
wanderer's  return  ;  but  the  knowledge,  so  unexpect- 
edly conveyed  to  him,  that  Gilbert  was  within  a  short 
distance  of  the  post  and  making  his  way  toward  it, 
almost  took  his  breath  away.  His  old  fear  that  Gil- 
bert might  "  spring  something "  on  the  man  who 
claimed  to  be  his  father,  came  back  to  him  wdth  re- 
doubled force. 

There  was  another  thing  that  caused  Captain  Bar- 
ton no  little  uneasiness — a  question  that  forced  itself 
upon  him  and  demanded  an  immediate  answer  :  how 
should  he  advise  Grizzly  Pete  to  conduct  himself  in 
the  boy's  presence  ?  Ought  he  to  keep  silent,  or 
wrould  it  be  better  for  him  to  walk  boldly  up  and 
claim  relationship? 

This  question  bothered  Pete  and  Bob  also  ;  but 
there  was  another  that  they  considered  to  be  of  in- 
finitely more  importance  to  them  :  who  was  the  new 
partner  that  Gilbert  had  picked  up  to  fill  Arizona 


126  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

Charley's  place,  and  who  was  unknown  to  the  ex- 
press rider  ? 

When  Grizzly  Pete  told  the  trader  that  the  Utes 
had  made  an  end  of  every  one  of  the  miners  who 
belonged  to  Mr.  Nevins's  party,  he  came  nearer  to 
the  truth  than  he  usually  did  in  telling  a  story  ; 
but  he  did  not  know  how  to  describe  anything  just 
as  it  happened.  He  had  to  keep  back  something 
in  one  place  and  add  something  in  another  in  order 
to  make  his  narrative  suit  him. 

The  party  were  not  all  killed,  and  Pete  and  Bob 
knew  it  well  enough.  Their  guide,  a  noted  scout 
and  trapper,  was  shot  down  while  in  the  act  of  rid- 
ing away  with  Mr.  Nevins's  little  boy  in  his  arms  ; 
but,  severely  wounded  as  he  was,  he  managed  to  get 
into  his  saddle  again  and  continue  his  flight ;  but  he 
left  his  burden  behind  him. 

That  was  the  way  that  Gilbert  the  trapper  came 
to  fall  into  the  power  of  the  two  squaw  men.  There 
wras  not  a  member  of  the  Cheyenne  tribe  within  a 
hundred  miles  of  the  battle  field. 

Pete  and  Bob  were  not  likely  to  forget  how  hard 
they  had  tried  to  kill  or  capture  that  man,  who  was 
well  known  to  both  of  them.  They  felt  the  greatest 
uneasiness  every  time  they  thought  of  him.  It  is 
true  that  they  had  neither  seen  nor  heard  of  him 
since  the  day  on  which  the  fight  took  place,  but 
that  was  no  proof  that  he  had  not  got  safely  away 
with  a  secret  in  his  possession  which,  if  noised 
abroad,  would  put  a  rope  around  Pete's  neck  and 
Bob's  in  short  order. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day  after  the  ex- 
press rider's  visit,  Gilbert  and  his  train  came  within 
sight  of  the  post. 

The  news  of  his  coming  had  been  noised  abroad, 
and  the  store  was  packed  with  squaw  men,  Indians, 
soldiers  and  scouts,  who  were  waiting  for  him.    The 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  127 

arrival  of  a  party  of  strangers,  or  even  of  one 
stranger,  was  regarded  as  an  event  of  some  conse- 
quence. It  was  nothing  new  or  novel,  but,  unless 
the  Indians  were  troublesome,  the  life  the  agency 
people  were  compelled  to  lead  was  so  very  monoto- 
nous, that  anything  out  of  the  usual  line,  no  matter 
how  trivial  it  might  be,  that  would  furnish  them 
fresh  topics  for  an  hour's  conversation  was  gladly 
welcomed. 

Gilbert  the  trapper,  who  was  riding  alone  at  the 
head  of  his  train,  dismounted  in  front  of  the  trader's 
door,  and  the  latter  pressed  forward  to  take  a  look 
at  him,  Grizzly  Pete  and  his  jDartner  keeping  in  the 
background. 

The  trader  did  not  know  Gilbert  as  long  as  the 
boy  kept  his  back  toward  him,  but  the  moment  he 
turned  his  face  to  the  door  he  recognized  him.  He 
drew  back  and  whispered  to  Pete, 

"  That's  your  boy,  if  I  ever  saw  him,"  said  he  ; 
"  but  don't  you  go  to  raising  a  fuss  with  him,  for 
he's  as  big  as  you  are.  He  has  come  back  rich.  He 
doesn't  need  any  of  the  fortune  that  is  hidden  in 
Sweetwater  Canyon." 

"  Then  I  wish  he  would  give  it  to  them  that  does 
need  it,"  said  the  squaw  man,  in  the  same  suppressed 
whisper.  "  See  anything  of  his  partner  ?  That's 
the  feller  me  an'  Bob  want  to  see  most." 

Before  the  trader  could  answer,  the  crowd  in  the 
doorway  parted  right  and  left  and  Gilbert  came  in. 
The  squaw  men  sullenly  stood  their  ground,  while 
the  trader  could  scarcely  have  been  more  obsequi- 
ous if  he  had  been  receiving  one  of  the  Commissioners 
of  Indian  Affairs.  He  was  angry  at  himself  for  ex- 
hibiting so  much  nervousness  in  the  presence  of  this 
sixteen  year  old  boy,  but  he  could  not  help  it.  How- 
ever, Gilbert's  first  words  put  him  quite  at  his  ease. 

"  Is  it  possible  that  I  have  changed  so  much  in 


128  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

three  years  that  you  do  not  recognize  nie,  Captain 
Barton  ? "  said  he.  Then,  to  the  great  amazement 
of  everybody,  including  the  express  rider  who  had 
brought  the  news  of  his  coming,  Gilbert  turned  and 
extended  his  hands  to  the  squaw  men.  "  You  are 
Grizzly  Pete,  and  you  are  Buckskin  Bob,  the  men 
who  saved  my  life  years  ago,"  he  went  on.  "I  should 
have  thanked  you  for  it  long  before  this  time,  but  I 
didn't  know  anything  about  it  until  I  had  been  ab- 
sent from  the  agency  more  than  a  year,  and  then 
Arizona  Charley  told  ine." 

This  speech  struck  every  one  dumb.  The  trader 
opened  his  mouth  and  eyes,  and  looked  first  at  the 
squaw  men  and  then  at  Gilbert.  The  former  were 
almost  overwhelmed  with  surprise  and  terror,  while 
the  expression  on  the  boy's  face  was  a  curious  mix- 
ture of  triumph,  satisfaction  and  anger. 

"  Didn't  I  say  that  if  he  didn't  spring  something 
on  those  two  men  when  he  came  back  I  should  miss 
my  guess  ?  "  thought  Captain  Barton,  turning  to  his 
counter  and  pretending  to  arrange  something  there, 
so  that  the  expression  of  his  own  face  might  not  be 
seen.  "  I  tell  you  our  game  is  blocked;  the  boy  has 
got  the  thing  in  his  own  hands.  He'll  pocket  the 
treasure  to  which  he  is  heir,  and  Pete  and  Bob  are 
as  good  as  hanged  this  minute." 

"  Why,  how — where — did  Arizona  Charley  find  out 
anything  about  it  ? "  stammered  Grizzly  Pete,  look- 
ing very  unlike  the  desperate  fellow  he  was  anxious 
to  have  every  one  think  he  was.  "  Charley  wasn't 
thar  or  tharabouts,  was  he  ?  " 

"No;  but  Josh  Saunders  was  there,  and  he  told 
Charley  all  about  it." 

Grizzly  Pete's  face  was  a  sight  to  behold,  while 
Buckskin  Bob  was  almost  ready  to  drop.  Josh  Saun- 
ders was  the  very  man  they  were  afraid  of. 

Was  he  still  alive,  and  did  he  know  where  Pete 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  129 

and  Bob  were  ?  These  were  the  questions  they 
wanted  to  ask  Gilbert,  but  their  lips  refused  to 
frame  the  words. 

"Yes;  Josh  Saunders  told  Arizona  Charley  all 
about  it,"  continued  the  young  trapper;  and  out  of 
the  corner  of  his  eye  the  trader  could  see  that  he 
kept  his  searching  gaze  fastened  upon  the  two  squaw 
men,  and  that  he  was  closely  watching  the  effect  of 
his  words.  "  You  see  Josh  was  guide  to  the  party 
to  which  my  father  belonged,  and  after  the  Indians 
killed  all  the  miners,  Josh  jumped  on  his  pony  and 
tried  to  carry  me  away  to  a  place  of  safety;  but  a 
bullet  knocked  him  out  of  his  saddle,  and  he  had  to 
let  me  drop." 

"  Whar — whar's  Josh  now  ?  "  Buckskin  Bob  man- 
aged to  ask. 

"  I  don't  know  where  he  is,"  was  the  reply,  and  it 
made  Bob  and  his  partner  breathe  a  great  'deal 
easier. 

"  Who's  your  newr  comrade  ?  "  was  Bob's  next  ques- 
tion. 

"He  calls  himself  Texas  Tim,"  answered  Gilbert 
"I  paid  him  off  about  twenty  miles  back  and  let 
him  go.  He  wouldn't  come  to  the  agency,  He  said 
there  were  people  here  whom  he  didn't  care  to  see." 

"  He's  been  a  doin'  of  something  back  in  the  set- 
tlements, most  likely,"  observed  Grizzly  Pete. 

"I  didn't  ask  him  about  that.  I  engaged  him  to 
show  me  the  way  up  here,  and  he  performed  his  woi  k 
to  my  entire  satisfaction.  Well,  Captain  Barton, 
what  do  you  say  ?  "  exclaimed  Gilbert,  stepping  up 
to  the  trader  and  ta£>ping  him  on  the  shoulder.  "  I 
am  after  money;  I'll  not  take  a  cent's  worth  in  bar- 
ter." 

"  Oh,  shucks !  "  replied  the  captain.  "  I  can't  give 
you  money.  I  haven't  got  it.  Besides,  what  do  you 
want  with  money  in   this  country?      You  couldn't 


130  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

keep  it,  for  somebody  would  hold  you  up  aud  take 
it  away  from  you." 

"I  will  risk  that,"  said  Gilbert,  with  a  laugh. 
"  Of  course,  if  you  haven't  got  any  money,  we  can't 
trade;  and  as  the  law  will  not  permit  me  to  sell  my 
goods  to  anybody  but  you  on  this  reservation,  I  shall 
have  to  go  elsewhere." 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  exclaimed  Captain  Bar- 
ton, when  the  boy  moved  toward  the  door. 

"  I  don't  know,  and  I  don't  much  care.  I've  plenty 
of  time  at  my  disposal.  I  shall  keep  going  until  I 
find  a  cash  customer,  if  I  have  to  go  clear  to  St. 
Louis." 

This  did  not  by  any  means  suit  Captain  Barton, 
who  knew  that  most  of  the  goods  that  came  from 
the  Navajo  nation,  especially  the  blankets,  com- 
manded a  ready  sale  at  figures  that  would  yield  him 
a  big  profit.  The  gaudy  colors  of  the  blankets  never 
failed  to  attract  the  eye  of  the  Indian,  who  would 
give  anywhere  from  two  to  half  a  dozen  ponies  for  a 
pair  of  them,  according  to  his  wealth;  and  if  you  call 
the  ponies  worth  twenty  to  forty  dollars  each,  yoa 
can  easily  figure  up  what  the  blankets  would  bring. 

With  some  such  thoughts  as  these  in  his  mind, 
Captain  Barton  beckoned  Gilbert  to  the  back  part  of 
the  store,  and  held  an  earnest  conversation  with  him. 
The  boy  was  not  so  hard  to  please  as  the  trader 
thought  he  was  going  to  be,  and  the  result  was  that 
in  less  than  in  five  minutes  the  store  had  been  cleared 
of  every  one  of  the  loafers,  and  Gilbert's  men  were 
busy  unloading  the  mules  and  carrying  in  the 
goods. 

At  the  end  of  two  hours  he  had  sold  the  trader 
everything  he  had,  mules,  pack  saddles  and  all,  re- 
serving only  his  riding  horse  and  weapons,  paid  off 
his  hands,  and  disappeared  down  the  trail  he  had 
followed  in  coming  to  the  agency.     When  he  was 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  131 

out  of  sight  the  trader  opened  the  door  and  admitted 
Grizzly  Pete  and  Buckskin  Bob. 

"What  took  Lira  awa}'  in  sick  a  hurry?"  inquired 
the  former,  whose  face  had  not  yet  resumed  its  nat- 
ural color.  "Thar's  something  about  this  whole 
business  that  makes  me  feel  all  over  as  if  a  feller 
had  come  up  behind  me  an'  dropped  a  piece  of  the 
coldest  kiud  of  ice  down  my  jacket." 

"  I  don't  feel  just  right  myself,"  said  the  trader, 
"  although  I  don't  know  why  I  should  be  afraid. 
There's  a  present  he  left  for  you  two,"  he  added, 
placing  his  hand  upon  two  pairs  of  blankets  that 
were  lying  on  the  counter. 

"  I  wouldn't  tech  'em  for  no  money  in  this  wide 
world,"  exclaimed  Pete,  seizing  the  arm  that  Bob 
had  thrust  out  toward  the  articles  in  question. 
"Don't  you  see  what  color  they  are  ?  " 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  their  color  ? "  asked 
Captain  Barton.  "  The}'  are  a  deep  red,  like  a  good 
man}'  others  I  purchased  from  him;  but  that's  just 
the  sort  to  take  an  Indian's  eye." 

"  That's  'cause  an  Injun  likes  blood,  an'  I  don't," 
said  Pete,  with  a  shiver.  "  TVhat'll  you  give  me  for 
mine  ?  " 

"Oh,  that  is  what  troubles  you,  is  it?  Well,  I 
don't  wronder  at  it.  I  will  give  you  the  value  of 
two  ponies  for  them.     Is  it  a  bargain  ?  " 

"  Say  four,  an'  take  'em  along.  You  know  you 
will  never  sell  'em  for  less'n  six." 

"I  don't  know  anything  of  the  sort/'  replied  the 
trader,  who  was  sure  that  he  would  get  the  blankets 
at  his  own  valuation.  "  Two  is  as  high  as  1  can 
afford  to  go." 

The  squaw  man,  knowing  by  experience  that  Cap- 
tain Barton  meant  just  what  he  said,  gruffly  told  him 
to  "take  'em";  and  then  announced  that  he  was 
ready  to  hear  what  Gilbert  had  to  say  for  himself. 


132  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

"  He  didn't  say  one  word,"  replied  the  trader,  in  a 
disappointed  tone.  "  I  tried  to  pump  him,  but  he 
wouldn't  be  pumped.  He  talked  business  and  noth- 
ing else." 

"  Do  you  know  whar  he  is  gone  ?  He  was  a  lum- 
berin',  the  last  glimpse  I  ketched  of  him  as  he  went 
over  the  swell.  I  don't  reckon  that  thar's  a  hoss 
about  the  agency  that  could  a'  kept  up  with  him." 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  it,"  repeated  Cap- 
tain Barton,  "  but  I  have  my  suspicions.  He  has 
come  back  after  the  property  he  is  left  heir  to,  and 
he  is  going  to  get  it." 

"  That's  what  I  suspicioned  myself,"  said  Bob. 
"Do  you  reckon  he  remembers  anything  about  it?  " 

The  trader  uttered  an  exclamation  of  impatience 
and  said  :  "  Of  course  not.  He  was  too  young  to 
remember  anything  at  the  time  his  father  was  killed." 

"  I'd  like  to  know  who  that  new  pardner  of  his'n 
is,"  said  Grizzly  Pete,  "  an  I  don't  reckon  I  shall 
sleep  sound  till  I  find  out.  It's  mighty  botherin'  to 
a  feller  to  have  something  hangin'  over  him  all  the 
time,  when  he  don't  know  what  it  is  or  when  it's 
goin'  to  drop  on  him." 

"  I  could  see  by  the  way  he  glared  at  you  while 
he  was  talking  to  you  about  Josh  Saunders,  that  he's 
got  the  dead  wood  on  you  in  some  manner,"  said  the 
trader,  cheerfully.  "It  is  my  opinion  that  Josh 
Saunders  and  Texas  Tim,  who  guided  him  from  the 
Navajo  country  up  here,  are  one  and  the  same." 

"  No !  "  exclaimed  Pete  ami  Bob,  in  a  breath. 
"  What  did  he  say  had  become  of  Arizona  Charley, 
any  way  ?  " 

"  I  don't  remember  that  he  said  much  of  anything 
about  him,"  answered  Captain  Barton.  "  He  simply 
mentioned  the  fact  that  Arizona  Charley  gave  him 
the  history  of  the  killing  of  the  miners  which  he 
had  heard  from  Josh  Saunders.     Now,  who  is  Josh 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  133 

Saunders?  Was  he  guide  for  those  miners,  and  did 
he  get  away?  That's  one  thing  you  kept  from  me 
when  you  pretended  to  tell  me  your  story.  If  Josh 
and  Texas  Tim  are  the  same,  then  you  are  in  a  ba  1 
box.  Now  stand  back.  I  am  going  to  open  the 
doors  and  sell  some  of  these  blankets  before  I  go  to 
supper." 

"  TThar  do  you  reckon  Gilbert  went  in  sich  a 
hurry.  Bob?"  inquired  Grizzly  Pete,  as  he  and  his 
partner  sullenly  obeyed  the  order  to  "stand  back." 
"Did  he  take  to  the  mountings  with  the  money  the 
cap'n  paid  him,  to  look  up  that  guide  of  his'n  ?  If 
he  done  that,  we've  got  secret  enemies  to  deal  with 
from  this  time  on.  They'll  dig  up  every  foot  of 
Sweetwater  Canyon  on  both  sides,  for  miles  back  ; 
see  if  they  don't." 

"  Haven't  me  an'  you  done  jest  that  very  thing, 
an'  did  we  find  a  single  nugget  to  pay  us  for  it?" 
growled  Bob.  "  Let  'em  dig,  if  they  want  to.  I 
wish  we  could  toiler  him  up  an'  get  the  money  he's 
got  about  his  clothes." 

"  I  was  thinkin'  about  that  myself,"  readied  Pete. 
"If  it  hadn't  been  for  Josh  an'  Arizona  Charley,  I 
could  have  made  Gilbert  acknowledge  me  as  his 
paw,  an'  then  he'd  have  had  to  hand  over  jest  as 
much  of  that  money  as  I  had  a  mind  to  ask  for, 
'cordin'  to  law.  But  them  two  fellers  went  an'  told 
him  how  the  thing  stands  between  him  an'  me,  an' 
now,  if  I  try  to  make  him  believe  that  I'm  any  rela- 
tion to  him,  he'll  laugh  at  me.  Bob,  we  made  a  big 
mistake  in  lettin'  that  guide  get  away." 

"I  have  know'd  l.*at  all  along,  but  we  couldn't 
help  it.  I  have  been  lookin'  for  him  t^  tell  on  us, 
an',  since  he  is  alive,  I  don't  see  why  he  ain't  dono  it 
long  ago.  I  tell  you,  Pete,  I  have  the  best  notion 
in  the  world  to  cl'ar  out  from  here.  All  them  thing 
that  happened  so  many  years  ago  that  we  thoii{ 


134  GILBEKT  THE  TRAPPER. 

they  wouldn't  never  be  heard  of  again,  are  comin' 
up  to  b'ar  witness  agin'  us.  I  felt  it  in  my  bones 
from  the  very  start  that  we  wouldn't  never  see  any 
of  them  nuggets  an'  dust,  an'  now  I'm  sure  of  it. 
What  do  you  reckon  it  was  that  made  Gilbert  step 
up  so  brash  an'  tell  us  that  we  was  the  fellers  that 
saved  his  life  ?" 

The  squaw  man  confessed  that  he  was  quite  at  a 
loss  how  to  account  for  that,  and  he  had  so  many 
other  things  in  his  mind  that  he  forgot  to  speak  to 
the  trader  about  it. 

"  Thar's  one  thing  about  it,"  continued  Pete,  in  a 
savage  whisper.  "  Me  an'  you  ain't  a  goin'  to  let  no 
marshal  hang  us  to  a  tree  for  what  was  done  to  them 
miners.  I  am  powerful  sorry  now,  when  it  is  too 
late,  that  we  saved  that  boy's  life  an'  let  Josh  get 
away,  but  it  can't  be  helped.  I'm  goin'  to  keep 
away  from  the  post,  an'  sleep  with  both  eyes  open 
arter  this  ;  an'  if  we  see  or  hear  anything  goin'  on 
about  us,  we'll  get  the  Injuns  together,  an'  egg  'em 
on  to  do  some  killin'  an'  scalpin'.  Eh  ?  Don't  you 
reckon  they'd  best  let  me  an'  you  alone  ?  " 

Buckskin  Bob  grinned,  and  then  the  two  worthies 
relapsed  into  silence,  and,  leaning  against  the 
counter,  watched  the  Indians  as  they  came  trooping 
into  the  store  with  their  arms  filled  with  dressed 
skins  wdiich  they  were  anxious  to  barter  for  the 
trader's  Navajo  blankets. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  135 


CHAPTEK  XIX. 

JOSH    SAUNDERS. 

iC  I  am  satisfied  now  that  you  knew  what  you  were 
talking  about  when  you  told  Arizona  Charlev  that 
Grizzly  Pete  and  Buckskin  Bob  were  present  when 
ray  father  and  the  miners  who  were  with  him  were 
murdered  by  the  Indians.  You  ought  to  have  seen 
their  eyes  stick  out  when  I  called  them  by  name,  and 
told  them  that  I  should  have  been  glad  to  thank  them 
long  ago  for  saving  my  life,  if  I  had  only  known 
about  it," 

It  was  Gilbert  the  trapper  who  said  this.  He  was 
sitting  with  his  elbows  resting  on  his  knees  and  his 
eyes  fastened  upon  the  glowing  camp  fire  in  front  of 
him,  and  his  words  were  addressed  to  his  comrade 
and  friend,  who  lay  at  his  ease  on  his  blanket,  smok- 
ing his  after  supper  pipe. 

If  Pete  and  Bob  could  have  taken  one  glance  at 
that  camp  and  its  occupants  they  would  have  seen 
that  the  fears  that  had  so  long  haunted  them  were 
by  no  means  groundless,  and  that  the  post  trader 
had  hit  the  nail  fairly  on  the  head  when  he  declared 
that  Josh  Saunders  and  Texas  Tim  were  the  same 
man. 

Josh  told  the  truth  when  he  said  he  would  not  go 
to  the  agency  for  the  reason  that  there  were  some 
men  there  he  did  not  care  to  see,  but  it  was  not  be- 
cause he  had  "  been  a  doing  of  something  back  in 


136  GILBERT  THE  TEAPP2E. 

the  settlements,"  as  Pete  Axley  affirmed.  It  was  be- 
cause he  had  sworn  to  shoot  the  two  squaw  men  the 
first  time  he  came  face  to  face  with  them,  and  he  did 
not  want  to  do  that  until  a  certain  mystery  which 
hung  over  Gilbert's  past  life  had  been  cleared  up. 

During  his  lifetime  Arizona  Charley  had  held 
firmly  to  the  belief  that  Pete  and  Bob  could* tell  a 
good  deal  about  Gilbert  if  they  felt  disposed  to  do 
so.  The  boy  himself  was  of  the  same  opinion,  and 
Josh  was  willing  to  bide  his  time. 

"  It  don't  stand  to  reason  that  any  man  who  has 
his  senses  about  him  would  start  out  on  a  trip  across 
the  plains  with  a  brat  of  a  boy  with  him,  and  get 
himself  killed,  without  leaving  some  papers  some- 
where to  tell  who  that  boy  was,  and  whether  or  not 
he  had  anything  in  the  way  of  money  or  property 
coming  to  him,"  Charley  often  declared,  with  a  know- 
ing look  in  his  eye.  "Now,  if  there  was  any  papers 
of  that  kind  in  the  camp  when  the  Injuns  killed  Mr. 
Nevins's  party,  who's  got  'em,  if  Pete  and  Bob  ain't? 
The  Injuns,  in  course,  wouldn't  take  two  looks  at 
anything  that  had  writing  onto  it,  but  Pete  would, 
and  if  he  ain't  got  something  of  that  kind,  what  was 
the  reason  that  he  was  so  careful  to  tell  Colonel 
Starke  that  the  boy  wasn't  to  be  sent  off  the  reserva- 
tion ?  But  if  he  has  got  any  papers,"  Charley  always 
added,  with  a  desponding  shake  of  his  head,  "  why 
hasn't  he  used  'em  before  this  time  ?  " 

When  Charley  met  his  old  friend,  Josh  Saunders, 
down  in  the  Navajo  country,  he  thought  the  mystery 
would  be  cleared  up  at  once  ;  but  unfortunately  it 
wasn't.  All  Josh  could  tell  him  was  that  Gilbert's 
.  father  had  "  a  good  deal  of  plunder  with  him  ; "  that 
he  seemed  suspicious  of  his  companions  ;  and  that 
he  was  killed  when  the  rest  of  the  miners  were.  Jf 
Pete  Axley  had  any  papers  in  his  possession  it  was 
probable  that  he  could  not  read  them,  and  that  lie 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  137 

was  waiting  for  Gilbert  to  grow  up  and  read  them 

for  him.  ,      ,,. 

Gilbert  himself  laughed  at  the  idea  of  such  a  thing 
at  first,  but  after  he  had  held  a  few  interviews  with 
Buckskin  Bob  (for  some  reason  or  other  Grizzly  Pete 
thought  it  best  to  keep  in  the  background),  he  be- 
gan to  think  that  there  might  be  something  m  it. 

"I  found  the  squaw  men  waiting  in  Captain  Bar- 
ton's store  with  a  crowd  of  other  loafers,''  continued 
Gilbert  to  his  companion,  Josh  Saunders.  "  I  shook 
hands  with  them,  thanked  them  for  what  they  had 
done  for  me,  and  all  the  while  it  was  all  I  could  do 
to  keep  from  denouncing  them  as  my  father's  mur- 

derers. 

"  You  didn't  acknowledge  Pete  as  your  pap  ?  "  said 

Josh.  tt     t  i 

Gilbert  looked  at  him  without  speaking.     He  did 
not  think  it  necessary  to  answer  the  question. 

"  Didn't  Bob  once  tell  you  that  you  had  better 
claim  the  relationship,  for  fear  that  Pete  might  shoot 
you  if  you  didn't?  "  continued  the  scout. 
"  "  That  is  just  what  he  said  to  me,"  replied  Gilbert, 
"  and  I  followed  Charley's  advice  and  put  him  off 
with  promises.  I  said  if  Pete  Axley  could  prove  he 
was  my  father,  of  course  I  should  recognize  him  as 
such  ;  but  I  knew  he  couldn't  do  it.  I  can  remember 
when  my  father  was  killed,  as  well  as  though  it  hap- 
pened only  yesterday.  I  know  just  how  he  looked, 
too  ;  and  I  could  pick  out  his  picture  among  a  thou- 
sand." 

"  Well,  now,  how  are  you  goin'  to  find  out  whether 
or  not  Pete  an'  Bob  have  got  any  papers  that  belong 
to  you  by  rights  ?  "  inquired  Josh.  "  You  have  satis- 
fied yourself  that  they  was  around  when  them  miners 
was  "killed,  an'  now  comes  the  hardest  move  of  all. 
You  don't  want  to  make  a  move  until  you  are  sure  of 
your  ground,  for  if  you  do,  you  will  put  them  on 


138  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

their  guard.  Then  they  will  destroy  the  docky- 
ments,  an'  leave  you  all  at  sea." 

Josh  had  more  than  once  asked  this  question  be- 
fore, and  it  was  one  that  always  put  Gilbert  into  a 
brown  study. 

"I  am  no  nearer  seeing  my  way  out  of  the  diffi- 
culty than  I  was  on  the  day  I  first  met  you,"  said  he. 
"  The  only  thing  I  can  do  is  to  hang  around  the 
agency  and  trust  to  luck." 

""Well,  you  know  I  can't  go  there  without  keepin' 
my  promise  to  shoot  Pete  and  Bob  ;  an'  if  I  do  that, 
you  won't  never  get  your  papers,  if  they've  got  any 
that  belongs  to  you." 

"No  :  you  must  not  lift  a  hand  against  either  of 
those  men  until  this  matter  is  settled,"  said  Gilbert, 
decidedly.  "  If  you  do,  }rou  will  knock  all  my  hopes 
higher  than  a  kite.  We  will  loaf  around  in  the 
mountains  and  pretend  that  we  are  trapping  for  a 
livelihood,  and  whenever  we  need  any  supplies  I  will 
dig  up  a  few  dollars  and  go  to  the  post  after  them." 

This  would  seem  to  imply  that  the  boy  had  already 
cached  the  money  he  had  received  from  Captain  Bar- 
ton for  his  goods. 

Well,  he  had.  It  was  buried  under  an  overhang- 
ing cliff,  a  short  distance  from  the  place  where  they 
had  camped  for  the  night.  It  was  their  joint  prop- 
erty, and  if  they  should  lose  their  lives  together, 
there  was  no  probability  that  it  would  ever  do  an}r 
one  any  good,  for  there  were  no  papers  to  tell  where 
it  was  concealed. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  139 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE    OUTBREAK. 

Gilbert's  programme  was  duly  carried  out,  but  not 
just  as  Josh  aud  he  bad  thought  it  would  be.  Al- 
though the  Indians  on  that  reservation  were  com- 
paratively quiet,  the  plains  tribes  were  very  discon- 
tented, and  there  were  threats  of  a  general  uprising 
among  them.  As  fast  as  the  different  bands  broke 
away  from  their  agencies,  the  troops  followed  and 
drove  them  back  again,  but  not  until  they  had  com- 
mitted outrages  that  were  enough  to  set  the  whole 
country  in  arms  against  them. 

Of  course  Josh  Saunders,  with  all  his  bitter  enmity 
towards  everything  that  bore  the  slightest  resem- 
blance to  an  Indian,  could  not  remain  idle  in  the 
mountaius  while  there  was  any  fighting  going  on, 
and  Gilbert  had  sworn  to  stand  by  him  in  any  and 
every  danger.  Consequently,  the  two  were  always 
foremost  in  every  scout  that  took  place. 

They  went  as  volunteers,  drew  no  pay  from  the 
government,  and  fought  side  by  side  with  the  sol- 
diers, who  first  admired  them  for  their  bravery,  and 
soon  learn  to  trust  them  for  their  unswerving 
fidelity.  Unlike  the  cowboys,  they  obeyed  orders  ; 
and  this  attracted  the  attention  of  the  commanding 
officers,  who  frequently  sent  them  off  on  detached 
service  calling  for  the  greatest  courage,  skill,  and 
j  udgment. 

Gilbert  the  trapper  was  followed  by  admiring  eyes 


140  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

wherever  lie  went,  and  it  was  no  wonder  that  the 
young  lieutenants,  to  quote  from  one  of  them,  "fell 
in  love  with  him." 

He  was  a  daring  and  graceful  rider,  a  dead  shot, 
had  never  been  known  to  flinch  under  the  hottest 
fire,  and  there  wasn't  anything  he  would  not  do  for 
the  members  of  the  command  with  which  he  hap- 
pened to  be,  with  one  single  exception.  He  would 
not  say  a  word  about  himself,  and  the  most  skillful 
questioning  could  not  draw  from  him  even  a  hint  of 
his  past  life.  There  were  many  rumors  floating 
about,  and  with  these  the  inquisitive  young  officers 
were  obliged  to  be  satisfied. 

Josh  Saunders  could  not  be  "  pumped,"  either  in 
regard  to  himself  or  Gilbert,  and  there  was  not  a 
single  scout  who  could  say  that  he  had  ever  seen 
him  before.  Of  course  they  knew  that  he  had  been 
through  the  region  more  than  once,  because  he  was 
acquainted  with  every  trail  and  canyon  in  it ;  but 
that  was  as  far  as  their  knowledge  of  him  went,  and 
Josh  would  not  enlighten  them  any  more  than  Gil- 
bert would  those  who  questioned  him. 

He  always  went  by  the  name  of  Texas  Tim.  If 
Grizzly  Pete  and  Buckskin  Bob  could  have  seen  him, 
the}'-  would,  no  doubt,  have  recognized  him  at  once, 
in  spite  of  the  changes  that  years  had  made  in  him  ; 
but  if  the  squaw  men  were  ever  in  action  with  Gil- 
bert and  Josh,  they  were  fighting  against  them  and 
not  with  them. 

"  It  wouldn't  be  a  very  bright  trick  on  my  part  to 
tell  these  soldiers  an'  scouts  who  an'  what  I  am," 
Josh  once  said  to  Gilbert  when  they  were  alone. 
"  As  long  as  you  hold  to  Arizona's  notion,  that  Pete 
and  his  pardner  have  got  some  papers  that  rightfully 
belong  to  you,  jest  so  long  I  must  hide  myself  under 
a  name  that  ain't  mine  ;  'cause  if  Pete  and  Bob 
should  find   out  that  I  am  hangin'  around,  they'd 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  141 

make  themselves  scarce  ;  an'  that  would  be  the  end 
of  the  whole  business." 

That  would  have  been  a  calamity  indeed  ;  and  it 
was  the  only  reason  why  Josh  was  so  uncommuni- 
cative. 

In  scouting,  fighting  the  Indians,  and  doing  noth- 
ing, Gilbert  the  trapper  and  Josh  Saunders  passed 
two  very  uncomfortable  years. 

'  Josh  was  impatiently  longing  for  the  time  when  he 
could  take  vengeance  upon  the  squaw  men  for  kill- 
ing the  miners  and  trying  to  kill  himself,  and  Gil- 
bert was  waiting  for  chance  (he  did  not  know  what 
else  to  depend  on)  to  open  the  way  for  him  to  ascer- 
tain whether  or  not  Pete  and  Bob  had  any  papers 
that  would  give  him  a  clew  to  his  identity,  and  tell 
what  had  become  of  the  "plunder"  which  Josh  often 
declared  Mr.  Xevins  had  in  his  pack  saddle. 

If  his  father  had  made  a  cache  of  his  valuables,  as 
J<>sh  seemed  to  think  he  had,  Gilbert  would  gladly 
have  given  them  all  to  know  if  he  had  any  relatives 
living,  and  where  they  might  be  found. 

This  was  somethiug  that  hung  over  Gilbert  like  a 
nightmare.  It  weighed  upon  him  so  heavily  that  he 
hardly  dared  to  think  of  it,  for  fear  that  he  should 
go  crazy. 

But  at  last  chance  (it  did  not  seem  to  be  anything 
else)  favored  him.  The  Utes  learned,  through  some 
of  their  scouts,  that  there  was  a  hunting  party  of 
Cheyenne»  but  a  short  distance  away,  and  that  they 
had  many  fine  horses  with  them.  They  had  a  small 
escort  of  troops,  too,  and  that  proved  that  they  were 
absent  from  their  reservation  with  their  agent's  con- 
sent ;  but  that  did  not  deter  the  Utes,  who,  depend- 
ing upon  strategy  and  celerity  of  movement,  hoped 
to  capture  those  horses  and  make  good  their  retreat 
with  them,  before  the  soldiers  knew  that  the  Chey- 
ennes  w^ere  in  any  danger  of  an  attack. 


142  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

Some  of  the  young  and  ambitious  members  of  the 
tribe  held  a  dance  (an  Indian  never  does  anything 
without  having  a  dance  before  and  after  it),  boasted 
loudly  of  the  desperate  deeds  of  valor  they  meant  to 
perform  when  they  met  the  Cheyennes,  and  when 
darkness  came  to  conceal  their  movements,  they  stole 
away  in  search  of  plunder  and  scalps. 

They  found  the  Cheyennes,  but  they  did  not  suc- 
ceed in  stealing  the  horses.  They  met  with  a  crush- 
ing defeat  at  the  hands  of  their  hereditary  enemies. 
But  they  could  not  think  of  returning  to  their  homes 
empty  handed.  They  must  have  something  to  show 
as  proof  of  their  prowess,  and  to  obtain  it  they  at- 
tacked Mr.  Wilson's  ranch. 

They  succeeded  in  burning  his  house  and  breaking 
his  furniture  ;  but  when  they  got  through  with  it 
there  were  not  as  many  of  them  as  there  were  when 
they  made  the  attack.  The  ranchman  and  his  cow- 
boys made  a  desperate  fight,  hoping  to  reach  the 
house  and  save  the  two  little  children  left  alone 
there  ;  but  the  savages,  divining  their  intention,  cut 
them  off  from  all  the  buildings,  and  forced  them  to 
seek  safety  in  flight. 

Now  it  so  happened  that  Gilbert  the  trapper  wit- 
nessed the  closing  of  that  fight.  He  was  on  his  way 
to  the  lower  agency  to  obtain  a  supply  of  provisions, 
and  came  within  sight  of  the  ranch  in  time  to  see 
Mr.  Wilson  and  his  men  falling  back  before  the 
Indians. 

His  first  thought  was  to  join  the  cowboys,  and  do 
what  he  could  to  help  them  ;  his  next  was  to  make 
the  best  of  his  wav  to  Fort  Shaw,  and  tell  the  com- 
manding  officer  what  he  had  seen.  Beyond  a  doubt 
this  was  the  uprising  that  had  so  long  been 
threatened  ;  and  the  commandant  ought  to  know  of 
it  before  the  Utes  had  opportunity  to  attack  any  more 
defenseless  ranches. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  143 

Having  decided  upon  Lis  course,  Gilbert  rode  for 
the  fort  at  the  top  of  his  speed  ;  but  fast  as  be  went, 
the  runnel's  sent  out  by  the  hostiles  went  faster. 

They  reached  the  agency  before  he  did,  incited 
their  friends  to  join  them  on  the  war  path,  and  assist 
in  avenging  the  lives  of  the  comrades  who  had  fallen 
in  battle,  and  instead  of  being  able  to  send  troops  to 
the  assistance  of  those  that  would  probably  be  or- 
dered out  from  Fort  Lewis,  the  commander  of  Fort 
Shaw  found  that  he  would  have  as  much  as  he  could 
do  to  look  after  his  own  Indians. 

Before  daylight  the  next  morning  a  hundred  young 
bucks  had  slipped  away,  and  gone  to  join  the  hos- 
tiles. These  formed  the  raiding  party  of  which 
Major  Payne  was  sent  in  pursuit,  and  Gilbert  went 
writh  him  as  volunteer  scout. 

Before  the  command  had  inarched  a  dozen  miles 
it  wTas  met  by  Josh  Saunders,  who  was  at  once  intro- 
duced to  the  major  as  a  scout  who  knew  all  about 
those  mountains,  and  could  not  be  beaten  at  follow- 
ing a  trail.  The  major  was  glad  to  accept  his  prof- 
fered services,  and  Josh  wTas  ordered  to  put  himself 
at  the  head  of  the  column  and  lead  it  forward  as 
rapidly  as  the  nature  of  the  ground  would  permit. 

"  "What  in  the  world  brought  you  out  here  ?  "  de- 
manded Gilbert,  as  he  and  his  friend  rode  on  alone. 
"  I  thought  I  left  you  in  camp,  twenty  miles  back  in 
the  mountains." 

"  Is  this  the  way  you  go  to  Fort  Shaw  after  grub  ?  " 
asked  the  scout,  in  reply.  "I  was  lookin'  for  bacon 
an'  hardtack,  an'  you  bring  me  a  lot  of  blue  coats  in- 
stead. Haven't  I  told  you  more'n  once  that  I  can 
smell  an  Injun  when  he's  on  the  war  trail  furder'n  I 
can  see  him  ?  It's  the  paint  he  has  on  him,  most 
likely,  an'  that's  what  brung  me  out.  I  wanted  to 
see  what  had  become  of  you." 

Up  to  this  time  luck  had  been  on  Gilbert's  side 


H4  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

and  Josh's,  for  they  had  never  received  so  much  as  a 
scratch  in  any  of  the  fights  in  which  they  had  taken 
part  ;  but  now  their  luck  changed,  or  rather  Josh's 
did. 

After  a  seventeen  hours'  flight  the  Utes  made  a 
stand,  and,  during  the  skirmish  that  followed,  the 
scout  received  a  wound  that  placed  him  under  the 
surgeon's  care  ;  so  that  when  Major  Payne  desired 
to  communicate  with  Captain  Brent,  who  was  fight- 
ing the  Indians  in  the  other  end  of  the  canyon,  Josh 
was  not  able  to  carry  the  letter,  and  Gilbert  was 
selected  in  his  stead. 

Having  hunted  and  trapped  through  those  very 
mountains,  in  company  with  Arizona  Charley,  almost 
ever  since  he  w^as  strong  enough  to  carry  a  rifle, 
Gilbert  might  be  supposed  to  be  tolerably  familiar 
with  all  their  numerous  gullies  and  divides.  Being- 
versed  in  Indian  cunning  as  well,  he  was  probably 
the  best  one  in  the  command  that  could  have  been 
detailed  to  take  Josh  Saunders's  place  ;  but  it  was 
not  without  the  greatest  danger  and  difficulty  that 
he  finally  succeeded  in  making  his  way  to  Captain 
Brent's  command. 

As  we  have  seen,  he  arrived  within  sight  of  it 
while  the  fight  that  was  going  on  was  at  its  hottest, 
and  the  question  that  was  immediately  presented  to 
him  was  :  how  was  he  going  to  cross  the  compara- 
tively clear  space  in  front  of  the  captain's  lines  ? 

This  was  an  undertaking  that  was  full  of  danger, 
but  we  know  that  he  accomplished  his  object,  reach- 
ing the  shelter  of  a  friendly  rock  before  the  soldiers, 
wTho  were  wholly  intent  on  keeping  the  Indians  from 
securing  the  scalp  of  the  wounded  cowboy,  knew 
that  there  wras  any  one  between  them  and  the  enemy . 

"  There,  now,"  said  Gilbert,  panting  from  the  vio- 
lence of  his  exertions,  at  the  same  time  taking  the 
major's  letter  from  his  pocket,  and  holding  it  aloft 


GILBERT   SUCCOES    THE   WOUNDED    COWBOY. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  145 

so  that  the  soldiers  could  see  it.  "I  don't  think 
they  will  shoot  me,  for,  even  if  there  are  none  among 
them  who  kno^w  me,  they  must  be  satisfied  that  my 
intentions  are  friendly.  Of  course  some  of  them 
can  understand  the  sign  language,  and  I  should  like 
to  tell  them  that  two  hundred  men  are  at  the  other 
end  of  the  canyon,  and  that  the  hostiles  are  in  a 
trap." 

Gilbert  made  several  attempts  to  convey  this  in- 
formation to  Captain  Brent,  but  finally  gave  it  up, 
because  he  could  not  see,  by  any  answering  sign, 
that  the  soldiers  comprehended  what  he  was  trying 
so  hard  to  tell  them.  The  reason  was  because  the 
Pawnee  trailers,  the  only  ones  with  Captain  Brent's 
command  who  understood  the  language,  were  fight- 
ing at  the  other  end  of  the  line  ;  and  before  any  of 
them  could  be  brought  up  to  interpret  his  signals, 
Gilbert  had  turned  his  attention  to  the  wounded 
cowboy.  The  latter  was  narrowly  watching  all  Gil- 
bert's movements,  and  was  more  than  once  on  the 
point  of  shooting  him,  believing  that  the  boy  was  a 
renegade  whom  the  Utes  had  sent  down  the  hill 
after  his  scalp. 

"I'll  bet  that  poor  fellow  has  been  shot,  and  that 
he  Mould  give  anything  he's  got  for  a  drink  of 
water,"  thought  Gilbert ;  and,  in  order  to  test  the 
matter,  he  held  his  recently  filled  canteen  up  so  that 
the  cowboy  could  see  it. 

The  sight  was  enough  to  drive  the  wounded  man 
almost  frantic.  There  was  no  mistaking  his  piteous 
appeals,  and,  urged  on  by  a  generous  impulse,  Gil- 
bert resolved  that  he  would  give  that  cowboy  a 
drink,  or  lose  his  life  in  attempting  it.  He  was  a 
long  time  in  working  his  way  to  him,  for  every  foot 
of  the  way  was  swept  by  rifles  from  the  top  of  the 
hill ;  but  he  reached  him  at  last,  lifted  his  head 
from  the  ground,  and  placed  the  canteen  to  his  lips. 


146  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

"You've  done  me  a  great  kindness,  pardner,"  mur- 
mured the  cowboy,  faintly,  "  and  the  only  return  I 
can  make  you  is  to  wish  that  you  may  get  back  with- 
out getting  injured." 

"I  hope  so,"  responded  Gilbert,  cheerfully,  "be- 
cause when  I  get  ready  to  go  I  am  going  to  take  you 
with  me,  if  you  are  willing  to  take  your  chances." 

The  cowboy  had  never  dreamed  of  this.  He  had 
made  up  his  mind  to  die,  and  to  die  game  when  the 
time  came  ;  but  life  is  sweet,  and  his  face  lighted  up 
with  hope  as  these  encouraging  words  fell  from  Gil- 
bert's lips.  We  know  how  long  and  patienthT  the 
boy  worked  to  save  him,  and  that  the  wounded  man 
was  eventually  brought  into  Captain  Brent's  lines  ; 
but  his  injuries  were  fatal,  and  he  died  on  the  way 
to  the  post. 

Gilbert  slept  inside  of  Captain  Brent's  lines  that 
night,  but  when  morning  came  he  was  not  to  be 
seen.  With  the  recklessness  characteristic  of  his 
class,  he  had  slipped  by  the  sentries  in  the  dark, 
when  he  might  have  had  a  pass  for  asking  for  it,  and 
hurried  back  to  Major  Payne's  command  to  take  care 
of  his  wounded  comrade. 

By  his  precipitancy  he  lost  the  ^ood  fortune  that 
chance  had  thrown  in  his  way.  Uncle  Jack  Waldron 
had  in  his  possession  some  of  the  papers  that  Gilbert 
was  so  anxious  to  see,  and  could  have  told  him  where 
to  find  the  rest. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  U7 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

A   MEETING    IN     THE    CANYON. 

At  the  close  of  the  twelfth  chapter  you  and  I 
told  each  other,  reader,  that  we  had  perfect  confi- 
dence in  Gus  Warren's  courage  and  skill  in  wood- 
craft, and  that  we  believed  he  would  take  good  care 
of  himself  and  of  his  brother. 

If  we  had  passed  along  that  way  two  hours  later 
we  would  have  found  them  snug  in  camp. 

The  cold  was  intense  and  the  storm  was  raging 
furiously;  but  little  snow  fell  where  they  were,  the 
gale  carrying  it  across  the  gorge  above  their  heads. 
Gus  was  cutting  the  night's  supply  of  fire  wood 
with  his  camp  axe,  while  Jerry  was  superintending 
the  cooking  of  their  supper. 

"  I  don't  call  this  so  very  bad  after  all,"  said  the 
latter,  critically  examining  the  slice  of  bacon  he  was 
broiling  over  the  fire  on  a  three  pronged  beech  stick. 
"It  will  be  something  to  talk  about  when  we  get 
back  to  the  States.  '  Lost  in  a  Blizzard,'  would  be 
a  bully  subject  for  a  composition,  wouldn't  it?  " 

"Yes;  and  'Our  Exj^erience  in  the  Ute  War* 
would  be  another,"  answered  Gus.  "Though,  to 
tell  the  truth,  we  didn't  see  much  of  it,  did  we  ?  All 
the  experience  we  had  with  it  was  at  the  fort.  HowT 
would  'A  Thrilling  Scene  '  do  for  a  subject,  and  then 
go  on  and  tell  of  the  braver}7  exhibited  b}*  Gilbert 

the  trapper,  when    he what's    the    matter  with 

you  ?  "  added  Gus,  in   some   alarm,  when  he  saw  his 


148  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

brother  drop  the  bacon  into  the  fire  and  reach  rather 
hurriedly  for  his  Winchester. 

By  way  of  reply,  Jerry  pointed  down  the  canyon. 
Gus  looked  but  could  not  see  anything,  for  just  then 
the  lower  end  of  the  gorge  was  concealed  from  his 
view  by  a  gust  of  snow,  which  an  eddying  wind 
brought  down  into  it.  But  he  heard  something — 
a  distinct  rustling  and  cracking  among  the  bushes 
and  evergreens,  as  some  heavy  body  worked  its  way 
rapidly  through  them. 

"It's  a  grizzly,"  said  Jerry,  in  a  frightened  whis- 
per. "  Don't  you  remember  what  Uncle  Jack  told  us 
about  their  ferocity?  They  never  wait  to  ask  any 
questions  when  they  find  an  intruder  in.  their  do- 
mains, but  start  a  fight  at  once." 

"  Don't  shoot,"  exclaimed  Gus,  when  he  saw  his 
brother  raise  his  Winchester  to  his  shoulder  and 
drop  his  cheek  close  to  the  stock. 

To  the  great  astonishment  of  both  the  boys,  these 
words  brought  a  response  from  the  bushes.  A  clear, 
ringing  voice  called  out : 

"No,  I  wouldn't  shoot.  I  am  not  a  wild  animal; 
and  if  I  was,  you  couldn't  hurt  me  while  I  am  in 
these  thick  bushes." 

Gus  and  Jerry  were  profoundly  astonished.  They 
stood  in  silence  in  front  of  the  lean  to,  holding  their 
rifles  in  their  hands,  and  waiting  for  the  man  in  the 
bushes  to  show  himself. 

A  few  seconds  later  something  that  might  have 
passed  for  a  snow  man  came  into  view.  He  was  not 
alone,  either.  He  faced  about,  pressed  the  thick 
bushes  down  with  his  hands  and  feet,  said  :  "  Come 
along,  old  fellow,"  and  a  sleek  horse,  with  a  well 
filled  pack  on  his  back,  stepped  out. 

The  man  stroked  the  animal's  nose  affectionately, 
shook  himself  after  the  manner  of  a  Newfoundland 
dog  when    emerging  from    the   water,  brushed  the 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  151 

snow  out  of  his  hair,  placed  a  wide  brimmed  som- 
brero upon  Lis  bead,  and  came  toward  the  camp, 
saying,  in  a  cheery  voice  : 

"  I  hope  I  don't  intrude.  The  fact  of  it  is,  I  went 
down  to  Captain  Barton's  store  after  supplies  for 
myself  and  partner  and  got  caught  in  the  blizzard. 
I  was  getting  ready  to  make  a  lonely  camp  down 
there  in  the  canyon,  but  the  wind  brought  the  smell 
of  your  smoke  to  me,  and  I  thought — well,  I  de- 
clare !  " 

While  the  stranger  talked  he  was  picking  his  way 
through  the  logs  and  rocks,  with  which  the  bottom 
of  the  gorge  was  filled;  but  when  he  came  close  to 
the  fire  he  raised  his  eyes  and  discovered  for  the  first 
time  that  he  was  not  addressing  men,  but  a  couple 
of  boys  whom  he  had  never  seen  before,  and  who 
looked  altogether  out  of  place  m  those  mountains 
wThile  a  blizzard  was  raging. 

"  "Where  did  you  kids  come  from  ?  "  he  added,  as 
soon  as  he  recovered  from  his  surprise. 

"  We  are  Jerry  and  Gus  Warren,  and  we  came 
from  the  States,"  was  the  answer. 

"That's  what  I  thought;  but  you  haven't  come 
from  the  States  very  lately,"  said  the  stranger,  with 
a  smile. 

"  Oh,  no.  We  have  been  on  the  plains  ever  since 
last  spring,"  replied  Gus.  "  We  are  stopping  with 
our  Uncle  Waldron,  who  lives  I  don't  know  how 
many  miles  from  here,  for  we  were  caught  on  the 
open  prairie  when  the  storm  came  up,  our  horses 
ran  awa}'  and  left  us,  and  we  don't  know  just  where 
we  are." 

"  Well,  I  must  say  you  are  cool  kids  for  city  boys," 
said  the  stranger,  taking  in  at  one  comprehensive 
glance  all  the  complete  preparations  which  had  been 
made  for  the  night.  "I  should  say  that  you  had 
camped  out  more  than  once  during  your  time.     But 


152  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

what  makes  you  look  at  me  so  steadily,  if  I  may  be 
so  bold  as  to  inquire  ?  I  never  forget  a  face,  and  I 
am  quite  positive  we  have  never  met  before." 

"No,  we  never  have,"  answered  Gus,  "but  we 
know  you,  all  the  same.  You  are  Gilbert  the  trap- 
per." 

"  That's  a  fact,  but  how  did  you  find  it  out?  " 

"  We  knew  you  from  the  description  we  have  had 
of  you.  You  see,  Uncle  Waldron  was  in  the  fight 
Captain  Brent  had  with  the  hostiles  when  you  saved 
that  cowboy  at  the  risk  of  your  own  life." 

"  So  your  uncle  was  in  that  battle,  was  he  ?  You 
were  not?  Then  what  makes  you  so  excited?  You 
tremble  all  over.  Are  you  frightened  because  you 
are  lost  ?  Well,  I  don't  know  that  you  are  to  blame 
for  that,  being  from  the  States.  If  you  had  been 
knocked  around  as  I  have,  you  would  have  got  used 
to  it  before  this  time.  But  don't  worry.  I  will  take 
care  of  you." 

It  is  true  that  the  boys  were  somewhat  excited, 
but  it  was  not  because  there  was  a  blizzard  raging 
and  they  did  not  know  the  way  home.  They  were 
thinking  of  the  remarkable  adventures  that  had 
befallen  this  handsome  stranger  who  had  so  unex- 
pectedly walked  into  their  camp,  and  wondering  how 
they  should  acquaint  him  with  the  fact  that  they  knew 
s  >me  things  about  him  that  he  did  not  know  himself. 

"I  suppose  you  have  been  caught  in  storms  like 
this  so  many  times,  during  the  thirteen  years  you 
have  been  on  the  plains,  that  you  think  nothing  of 
it,"  said  G-us,  at  length. 

"Well,  no,"  answered  Gilbert,  with  a  laugh.  "I 
generally  make  it  my  business  to  get  under  cover 
when  the  signs  grow  threatening.  I  knew  yesterday 
that  this  storm  was  coming,  but  I  left  my  partner 
without  any  grub  to  speak  of,  and  was  anxious  to 
get  back  to  him  before  the  snow  blocked  my  way. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  153 

How  clo  you  know  that  I  have  been  on  the  plains 
thirteen  years  ?  " 

"  I  believe  that  was  what  Buckskin  Bob  told  Uncle 
Waldron,"  replied  Gus  ;  and  his  words  had  just  the 
effect  upon  the  visitor  that  he  thought  they  would. 
Gilbert  was  standing  beside  Lis  horse,  unfastening 
the  straps  with  which  the  pack  was  bound  to  his 
saddle  ;  but  at  the  mention  of  the  squaw  man's  name 
he  drorjped  everything,  and  looked  at  Gus  with  an 
expression  that  no  one  Lad  ever  seen  on  his  face 
before. 

"  Buckskin  Bob  was  wounded  in  that  fight,"  con- 
tinued Gus,  speaking  as  rapidly  as  he  coidd,  for  he 
knew  that  Gilbert  was  as  impatient  to  hear  what  he 
had  to  say  as  he  was  to  say  it.  "If  you  had  not 
been  in  such  a  hurry  to  leave  Captain  Brent's  com- 
mand on  the  morning  after  the  battle,  you  might 
have, had  all  the  papers  in  your  possession  now." 

"What  paper.- V  asked  Gilbert. 

He  uttered  the  words  calmly  enough,  but  he  w  - 
fairly  quivering  with  suppressed  excitement.  He 
left  his  horse,  walked  around  the  fire,  and  seated 
himself  on  a  convenient  log  near  it,  anxiously  await- 
ing an  answer. 

"I  told  von  that  Buckskin  Bob  was  wounded  in 
the  fight,  didn't  I?"  said  Gus.  "Well,  when  the 
troops  advanced  the  next  morning,  Uncle  Jack  found 
him  lying  among  the  rocks,  too  badly  hurt  to  move. 
The  renegade  thought  he  was  going  to  die,  and  so 
he  told  Uncle  Jack  as  much  of  your  history  as  he 
knew.  He  said  that  about  thirteen  years  ago  your 
father  left  ihe  mines  in  company  with  a  party  of 
men  whom  he  supposed  to  be  his  friends,  to  cross 
the  plains  on  his  way  Lome." 

"  Where  was  his  Lome  ?  "  inquired  Gilbert,  eagerly. 
"J  would  give  anything  to  know  that." 

"I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I  can't  enlighten  you," 


154  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

replied  Gus  ;  and  the  tone  in  which  he  said  it  proved 
that  he  meant  it.  "  Perhaps  it  is  on  the  other  part 
of  the  papers  that  Grizzly  Pete's  got." 

"  I  knew  it ;  I  knew  it  all  the  time,"  exclaimed  Gil- 
bert, rising  to  his  feet  and  striding  back  aud  forth 
like  some  caged  wild  animal.  "Arizona  Charley 
always  said  so,  and  Josh  and  I  thought  so.  Go  on, 
please.  I  will  try  not  to  interrupt  you  any  more. 
But  if  you  had  lived  all  your  life  as  I  have,  without 
knowing  wh'j  or  what  you  are,  or  whether  or  not 
there  is  a  person  on  the  face  of  the  broad  earth  who 
is  in  any  way  related  to  you,  you  would  be  impatient 
too,  I  guess.     Go  on." 

"  When  your  father  and  his  party  reached  a  place 
called  Sweetwater  Canyon,"  continued  Gus,  "the 
Cheyennes  attacked  and  killed  the  last  one  of  them." 

"  That's  where  Buckskin  Bob  deliberately  deceived 
your  uncle,"  said  Gilbert,  forgetting  that  he  had 
promised  not  to  interrupt  any  more.  "  The  Chey- 
ennes had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  The  Utes  did  it, 
and  most  likely  Pete  and  Bob  put  them  up  to  it. 
Tliey  killed  every  one  in  the  party  except  Josh 
Saunders  and  myself,  and  Pete  took  me  and  gave 
me  into  Colonel  Starke's  hands  for  safe  keeping.  I 
know  all  about  that  (although  I  do  not  see  why  it 
was  necessary  that  I  should  have  been  placed  under 
the  protection  of  the  soldiers),  but  it's  the  papers  I 
want  to  hear  about.  What  of  them,  and  how  does 
it  come  that  Bob  had  part  of  them  and  Pete  the 
rest?" 

With  a  great  effort  Gilbert  the  trapper  curbed  his 
impatience,  and  sat  down  on  the  log  again. 

"  The  papers  that  Buckskin  Bob  gave  into  Uncle 
Jack's  hands  were  cut  into  two  pieces,"  continued 
Gus.  "  Bob  explained  that  the  reason  that  was  done 
was  because  he  and  Pete  were  suspicious  of  each 
other.     They  were  afraid  that  if  the  papers  were  left 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPEK.  155 

entire  in  the  hands  of  one  person  he  might  steal  a 
march  on  the  other,  and  dig  up  the  money  that  is 
concealed  in  Sweetwater  Canyon." 

'■  Then  my  father  did  have  some  property?"  said 
Gilbert. 

"Yes.  The  letter,  which  was  written  in  plain 
English,  states  that  he  had  a  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars' worth  of  dust  and  nuggets,  and  that  he  buried 
it  somewhere  in  the  canyon  while  his  companions 
were  asleep.  You  see  he  found  that  some  of  them 
were  no  better  than  they  ought  to  be,  and  he  was 
afraid  they  would  kill  him  to  get  his  wealth." 

"My  partner,  Josh  Saunders,  has  always  stuck  to 
it  that  my  father  had  lots  of  money,  or  something 
else  that  was  valuable,  in  his  pack  saddle,  for  he  was 
very  careful  of  it  at  night,"  said  Gilbert,  reflectively. 
"You  say  that  there  were  two  papers,  and  that  the 
letter  was  written  in  plain  English.  Am  I  to  under- 
stand that  the  other  was  not  a  letter,  and  that  it  was 
in  some  other  language?" 

"  That  is  just  what  I  mean.  The  smallest  paper 
contained  a  description  of  the  place  in  which  the 
money  was  buried,  and " 

"  Then  I  ha\  e  wasted  my  time  staying  here,  haven't 
I?"  exclaimed  Gilbert,  with  a  sigh.  "That  cache 
has  been  found  and  opened  long  before  this  day.  I 
don't  care  for  the  nuggets  and  dust,  for  I  shall  never 
live  among  civilized  people  who  judge  of  a  man's 
worth  by  the  size  of  his  pocket  book  ;  but  there 
might  have  been  some  other  papers  in  it  that  would 
tell  me  who  I  am,  and  where  my  relatives  live." 

"Well,  that  cache  hasn't  been  found  and  opened 
yet,  either,"  said  Gus,  as  soon  as  Gilbert  gave  him  a 
chance  to  speak.  "  The  smallest  paper  was  a  cryp- 
togram ;  that  is,  the  information  it  contained  was 
concealed  under  the  most  curious  jumble  of  letters 
you  ever  saw.     The  trader  has  a  copy  of  it " 


156  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

"  Not  Captain  Barton  !  "  cried  Gilbert. 

"  He  is  the  trader  at  the  lower  agency,  isn't  he  ?  " 
said  Gus,  in  reply.     "  Then  he  is  the  man." 

"What  a  scoundrel  he  is  !  "  said  Gilbert,  fiercely. 
"I  sold  him  my  goods  when  I  came  up  from  the 
Navajo  nation.  I  have  been  alone  with  him  in  his 
store  more  than  a  hundred  times  since,  and  he  never 
said  a  word  to  me  about  it." 

"  Of  course  he  didn't,"  assented  Gus.  "  Bob  told 
Uncle  Jack  that  he  is  a  bad  man,  and  will  do  any- 
thing  for  money.  I  do  not  know  how  he  came  hj 
the  papers  in  the  first  place,  but  he's  got  'em  ;  and 
it  was  his  intention  to  read  them  and  claim  a  share 
of  that  hundred  thousand.  But  you  need  not  worry 
about  that.     He  can't  read  the  cryptogram." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  just  guess  at  it.  If  he  can,  what  is  the  reason 
he  has  not  dug  up  the  dust  before  this  time  ?  He 
can't  read  it,  I  tell  you.  It  took  me  a  good  while  to 
do  it,  and  I  know  something  about  cryptograms." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  can  read  it — that 
you  have  read  it  ?  "  cried  the  young  trapper,  the 
excitement  which  he  had  tried  so  hard  to  suppress 
showing  itself  afresh. 

"  Certainly.  Didn't  you  understand  me  to  say  as 
much  ?  Buckskin  Bob  gave  his  part  of  the  papers 
to  Uncle  Jack,  who  brought  them  home  and  gave 
them  to  us  to  read  for  them.  Bob  discouraged 
Uncle  Jack  by  telling  him  that  one  of  the  papers 
was  written  in  Dutch  ;  but  I  knew  what  it  was  the 
minute  I  looked  at  it.  I  found  the  key  after  a  while, 
and,  if  you  will  bring  me  the  rest  of  the  paper,  I 
will  tell  you  right  where  to  look  for  your  cache." 

"Look  here,  partner,"  said  Gilbert,  slowly  rising 
to  his  feet.     "  What  did  you  say  your  name  is  ?  " 

Gus  told  him,  adding  that  the  "  other  fellow  "  was 
his  brother  Jerry. 


GILBEET  THE  TRAPPER.  157 

"  Well,  Gus,"  Gilbert  went  on,  "  you  don't  know 
what  you  have  done  for  me.  Ever  since  I  can  re- 
member I  have  carried  a  load  on  my  shoulders 
which  has  grown  heavier  with  every  year  of  my  life, 
until  it  seemed  that  I  must  sink  under  it.  I  thank 
Heaven  that  I  have  not  got  to  bear  it  much  longer. 
Put  it  there." 

Gilbert  held  out  his  hand,  and  Gus  placed  his  own 
within  it. 

Now  the  latter,  to  quote  from  Uncle  Jack  "Wal- 
dron,  was  pretty  much  of  a  buy  himself.  There 
were  not  many  sixteen  year  old  fellows  who  had  any 
business  with  him.  He  was  a  trained  gymnast,  an 
Indian  club  and  dumb  bell  swinger,  a  long  distance 
runner  and  a  wheelman  besides.  His  muscles  were 
all  well  developed,  but  his  brother  Jerry  would  not 
have  been  more  utterly  helpless  in  his  own  grasp 
than  he  was  when  Gilbert  the  trapper's  hand  closed 
over  his  palm.  If  the  pressure  of  his  hand  was  an 
index  to  his  feelings,  they  must  have  been  very 
strong  indeed.  And  yet,  if  all  reports  were  true, 
Gilbert  could  not  have  been  more  than  a  year  older 
than  himself. 

"It  beats  the  world  how  things  do  turn  out  when 
you  are  least  expecting  it,"  said  Gilbert,  as  he 
went  back  to  his  horse  and  assumed  his  work  of  un- 
fastening the  pack  that  was  strapped  to  the  saddle. 
"  You  don't  know  how  I  railed  at  the  blizzard  when 
it  came  up  and  caught  me  out  there  in  the  open  ;  but 
if  it  had  held  off  until  I  reached  my  camp,  I  never 
would  have  seen  you,  and  there  is  no  telling  whether 
or  not  I  should  ever  have  found  out  anvthing  about 
myself." 

"  Oh,  I  think  you  would,"  said  Gus.  "  Uncle  Jack 
is  much  interested  in  your  affairs,  and  I  have  an  idea 
that  he  intends  to  make  Grizzly  Pete  and  the  trader 
hand  out  those  papers  at  the  muzzle  of  a  revolver. 


158  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

He  told  me  to  give  him  a  copy  of  them,  and  I  knew 
by  the  look  on  his  face  that  he  was  up  to  some- 
thing." 

"  That  is  just  what  I  should  expect  of  Mr.  Waldron," 
replied  Gilbert.  "  I  have  often  heard  of  him  and  his 
doings,  and  I  know  that  he  has  the  reputation  of 
being  around  when  there's  anybody  in  trouble.  I 
am  much  obliged  to  him,  I  am  sure  ;  but  I  will  save 
him  the  work  of  calling  upon  Pete  and  Captain  Bar- 
ton.    I  will  attend  to  them  myself." 

"But  you  mustn't  rush  things,"  cautioned  Gus. 
"  If  you  give  them  a  chance  to  destroy  the  paj:>ers, 
then  you  will  be  in  a  pretty  fix." 

"  Won't  I  ?  "  said  Gilbert,  cheerfully. 
"  And  if  you  don't  get  the  papers  the  first  time 
they  will  either  burn  them  up,  or  hide  them  where 
you  can't  find  them,"  added  Gus. 

"I  understand  all  that.  I  don't  intend  to  rush 
things." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  am  going  to  camp  here  with  you  until 
the  storm  is  over,  if  you  will  let  me,"  answered  Gil- 
bert, depositing  his  heavy  pack  under  the  shelter  of 
the  lean  to.  "  Then  I  will  show  you  the  way  home, 
and  ride  down  to  the  agency  and  pay  my  respects  to 
Captain  Barton.  I  think  I  can  convince  him  that  it 
would  be  to  his  interest  to  hand  over  those  pajDers 
without  making  any  fuss  about  it." 

"  But  suppose  you  can't  ?  "  said  Jerry,  who  up  to 
this  time  had  been  an  interested  listener.  "What  if 
he  refuses,  point  blank  ?     Then  what  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  think  he  will  refuse,  or  even  hesitate. 
As  soon  as  I  get  them,  I  will  call  and  see  you  on  my 
way  to  camp,  and  ask  you  to  read  them  for  me." 

"And  I  will  do  it,  and  be  glad  to.  What's  the 
reason  you  don't  go  and  get  your  partner  to  help 
you  ?  "  said  Gus,  who  knew  by  the  way  Gilbert  spoke 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  150 

that  the  latter  meant  to  compel  the  trader  to  comply 
with  his  demand,  whether  he  wanted  to  or  not. 

"  Because  I  don't  need  any  help — least  of  all  such 
help  as  Josh  Saunders  would  he  likely  to  give  me. 
I  don't  want  Josh  to  go  to  the  agency,  for  he  might 
stumble  upon  Grizzly  Pete  or  Buckskin  Bob  while 
he  was  there,  and  then  there  would  be  trouble.  He 
has  promised  to  shoot  them  on  sight." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  he  won't  do  it,"  exclaimed  Jerry. 

"He  will,  you  may  be  sure  of  that,  for  Josh  is  not 
a  man  to  say  such  things  just  for  the  sake  of  hear- 
ing himself  talk.  He  was  my  guide  up  from  the 
Navajo  country,  but  I  dropped  him  twenty  miles  from 
the  agency,  telling  him  to  go  into  the  hills  and  await 
my  return.  I  hoped  to  meet  Pete  and  Bob  at  the 
post,  but  I  did  not  want  Josh  to  see  them.  Josh 
knows  more  about  my  early  days  than  any  living 
man,  for  he  was  my  father's  guide  at  the  time  he  and 
his  companions  were  killed  by  the  Utes.  He  tried 
hard  to  save  me,  but  couldn't  do  it.  I  told  you  all 
about  that." 

The  boys  looked  surprised  and  declared  that  Gil- 
bert had  not  said  one  word  about  it  before. 

"Then  it  was  because  I  had  so  many  other  things 
to  tell  that  I  didn't  think  of  it.  Yes  ;  Josh  was  there 
and  saw  it  all.  He  was  well  acquainted  with  Pete 
and  Bob,  and  saw  them  while  the  fight  was  going 
on.  I  could  hardly  believe  that  Bob  had  any  hand 
in  it,  but  I  believe  it  now.  On  the  day  that  I  came 
up  with  my  train,  two  years  ago,  I  found  them  in 
the  store,  and  thanked  them  before  a  whole  crowd  of 
people  for  the  service  they  had  rendered  me,  and 
they  never  denied  it.  That  proves  that  they  were 
with  the  Utes  when  they  pitched  upon  the  miners, 
does  it  not  ?  I  tell  you  they  were  surprised,  for 
thev  saw  that  I  had  it  in  my  power  to  denounce 
them." 


160  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

"  And  why  didn't  you  do  it  ?  " 

"Because  Charley  and  Josh  stuck  to  it  that  there 
were  papers  in  existence  that  I  ought  to  have,  and  I 
wanted  to  get  them  before  saying  or  doing  anything 
to  kick  up  a  row.  How  I  wish  that  Arizona  Charley 
had  lived  to  see  this  day !  Everything  has  turned 
out  just  as  he  said  it  would.  Now  let's  have  a  bite 
to  eat.  Is  that  all  you've  got  in  the  way  of  pro- 
vender ?  " 

"  That's  all,"  replied  Jerry.  "  It  was  intended  for 
a  lunch.  We  didn't  expect  anything  of  this  kind, 
you  know,  when  we  rode  out  to  see  Uncle  Jack's 
cowboys  round  up  his  cattle." 

"No;  I  suppose  not.  Well,  I've  got  enough  here 
to  last  us  two  or  three  weeks." 

"  Must  we  stay  here  that  long  ?  "  exclaimed  Jerry. 

"I  hope  not,"  answered  Gilbert.  "I  should  like 
to  have  my  affairs  settled  before  the  end  of  that 
time.  We  may  have  to  remain  in  camp  three  or  four 
days;  but  that's  nothing,  as  long  as  we  have  an 
abundance  of  fire  wood  and  plenty  to  eat." 

So  saying,  Gilbert  began  undoing  his  pack,  while 
Gus  punched  up  the  fire  and  piled  on  more  fueL 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  16* 


CHAPTEB  XXII. 

AROUND    THE    CAMP    FIRE. 

Tom  about  is  fair  play,  boys,"  said  Gilbert  the 
trapper,  as  he  drew  out  of  his  pack  a  whole  ham  a 
canPof  com,  half  a  peck  of  potatoes  and  a  small 
package  of  tea.  "I  will  provide  you, with  a  good 
supper  if  you  will  give  my  horse  something  to  eat 

"That's  a  fair  proposition,"  replied  Gus.  >;  trot 
anvthing  in  the  way  of  oats  or  corn  in  there  . 

"Nar?  thing,"  said  Gilbert,  laughing  at  the  idea. 
"  He  will  have  to  be  satisfied  with  what  he  can  browse 
from  a  cottonwood  tonight.  That  is  what  the  Indian 
ponies  live  on  during  the  winter,  you  know. 

"But  this  fellow  looks  as  though  he  were  accus- 
tomed to  better  grub  than  that,"  answered  _  Jerry, 
passing  his  hands  admiringly  over  the  horse  s  sleek 
coat  "You  couldn't  keep  him  in  better  condition  if 
you  were  fitting  him  for  a  race." 

"Oh  he  has  good  care.  In  the  glade  where  mj 
partner  and  I  have  made  pur  permanent  camp, jm 
shall  have  grass  all  the  winter  through.  Tom  will 
he  in  as  fine  trim  for  hard  work  in  the  spring  as  he 
is  now;  and  that  is  not  the  case  with  an  Indians 
pony.  He  comes  out  of  his  winter  quarters  looking 
as  though  he  was  half  starved." 

It  wJ  plain  that  Tom  knew  what  a  co  onwood 
was,  for  when  Gus  brought  one  down  with  a  few 
strokes  of  his  camp  axe,  the  howe  walked  up  to  it 
and  began  eating  his  supper.     After  thebojs  had 


162  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

finished  theirs,  they  were  ready  for  the  business  of 
the  evening,  which,  in  a  camp,  is  invariably  story 
telling. 

"  You  said  a  few  minutes  ago  that  turn  about  is 
fair  play,"  said  Grus.  "  We  have  put  you  on  the 
track  of  the  papers  you  wanted  to  find,  and " 

"And  you  want  me  to  tell  you  something  about 
myself  in  return,"  said  Gilbert,  finishing  the  sen- 
tence for  him.  "  Well,  that  is  natural,  and  I  will 
gladly  oblige  you.  It  will  be  a  relief  to  me  to  talk 
to  you.  A  good  many  people  with  whom  I  have 
come  in  contact  first  and  last,  have  tried  to  get  me 
started  on  that  subject,  but  somehow  I  never  could 
unburden  myself  to  them.  I  knew  that  they  would 
fail  to  appreciate  the  situation,  or  else  they  would 
laugh  at  me  for  being  a  fool.  But  I  have  got  the 
laugh  on  my  side  now — or  rather,  I  will  have  in  a 
few  days. 

"  A  good  many  have  asked  me  why  I  didn't  hire 
out  for  a  cowboy  instead  of  loafing  around  the  post. 
The  reason  was  because  I  could  not  divest  myself  of 
the  idea  that  if  I  ever  desired  to  know  anything 
about  myself,  I  had  better  stay  where  I  could  keep 
about  half  an  eye  on  Pete  Axley  and  Buckskin  Bob. 
I  learned,  as  soon  as  I  was  old  enough  to  learn  any- 
thing, just  how  I  came  to  be  placed  in  Colonel 
Starke's  hands,  and  the  people  living  at  the  fort 
were  open  and  above  board  with  me.  They  were 
very  careful  not  to  raise  any  false  hopes  in  me,  and 
told  me  from  the  start  that  my  father  was  a  squaw 
man,  and  that  he  had  left  the  States  and  come  to 
this  wilderness  because  he  had  to;  but,  boy  as  I 
was,  I  could  see  that  they  did  not  believe  a  word  of 
it." 

"Then  I  don't  see  why  they  told  you  so,"  said 
Jerry,  angrily. 

"  They  did  it  because  that  was  the  story  that  Pete 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPEK.  163 

Axley  told  Colonel  Starke.  You  can't  imagine  how 
mad  I  was  when  Arizona  Charley  pointed  out  Grizzly 
Pete,  and  told  me  that  lie  was  the  man  who  claimed 
to  be  my  father.  I  knew  better  ;  something  in  here 
told  me  that  that  man  was  no  relation  to  me  and  had 
no  claim  upon  me,"  said  Gilbert,  laying  his  hand 
upon  his  heart.  "  I  took  pains  to  keep  out  of  his 
way.  and  never  exchanged  a  single  word  with  him 
until  the  day  I  came  back  from  the  Navajo  country. 
Then  I  thanked  him  for  saving  my  life,  and  gave 
him  every  chance  to  say,  in  the  presence  of  the  sol- 
diers and  others  who  were  standing  around,  that  he 
was  my  father;  but  he  dared  not  utter  the  words.  I 
ruined  years  of  his  work  in  just  two  minutes'  time." 

"  He  industriously  spread  the  report  behind  your 
back  that  he  was  your  father,  but  he  dared  not  say 
so  to  your  face,"  observed  Gus. 

"  That's  the  idea  that  I  am  tiTing  to  convev,"  said 
Gilbert.  "  He  told  Buckskin  Bob,  more  than  once, 
that  he  was  going  to  claim  me  and  take  me  away 
from  the  post  when  he  got  a  good  ready,  and  if  I 
kicked,  or  refused  to  acknowledge  him  as  my  father, 
he  would  shoot  me.  That  was  the  time  for  him  to 
speak  up;  but  if  he  had  done  so,"  said  Gilbert, 
shaking  his  fist  at  Gus,  "  I  would  have  told  him 
that  he  was  with  the  Utes  when  they  killed  my 
father  and  his  companions.  I  should  have  been 
sorry  to  do  it  so  publicly,  for  I  don't  want  to  get 
Buckskin  Bob  into  any  trouble.  He  is  a  bad  man, 
and  is  quite  as  much  to  blame  for  my  father's  death 
as  Pete  is;  but  he  has  tried  to  make  amends  for  it, 
as  far  as  he  can.  He  has  dropped  many  hints  that 
did  much  to  open  my  past  life  to  me,  and  he  would 
have  said  and  done  more  if  he  were  not  afraid  of 
Grizzly  Pete.  If  I  could  catch  Bob  in  the  woods 
by  himself  I  am  sure  I  could  persuade  him  to  tell 
me  everything  he  knows." 


164  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

"  I  have  often  wondered  why  there  was  no  fuss 
ever  made  about  that  masacre,"  said  Gus. 

"Because  no  one  knew  except  those  who  were 
engaged  in  it;  that's  the  reason.  I  don't  suppose 
there  was  a  man  in  all  this  country,  between  the  San 
Pedro  mines  and  the  Mississippi  river,  who  ever  saw 
or  heard  of  those  miners.  There  was  no  one  about 
here  to  miss  them,  no  one  to  make  inquiries  about 
them,  and  consequently  it  was  an  easy  matter  for  the 
Utes  to  annihilate  the  entire  party  and  escape  detec- 
tion, if  they  concealed  their  bodies  so  that  the  scouts 
would  not  find  them.  But  there's  one  thing  ]  can't 
explain,  and  that  is,  how  the  Utes  have  managed  to 
keep  from  boasting  of  it  during  their  dances.  The 
Indian  who  killed  Custer's  veterinary  surgeon  and 
sutler  was  discovered  in  that  way,  but  not  until 
eighteen  months  after  he  committed  the  deed.  He 
might  have  remained  unknown  until  this  day,  if  he 
could  have  curbed  his  propensity  for  boasting." 

Seeing  that  he  had  an  appreciative  audience,  and 
that  Gus  Warren  and  his  brother  were  deeply  inter- 
ested in  everything  he  said,  Gilbert  the  trapper  re- 
arranged his  blankets,  leaned  his  elbow  upon  his 
saddle,  which  he  had  placed  at  the  head  of  his 
bed  to  serve  as  a  pillow,  and  launched  out  into  a 
story,  which  was  none  the  less  interesting  because 
it  was  true.  I  write  it  just  as  he  told  it,  for  it  will 
give  you  a  fair  idea  of  the  way  things  are  done  on 
the  plains,  and  serve  to  convince  you  that  our  gov- 
ernment and  not  the  Indians  is  to  blame  for  many 
of  the  wars  through  which  we  have  passed. 

"  Perhaps  you  know,  better  than  I  can  tell  you," 
said  Gilbert,  when  he  had  fixed  his  bed  to  his  satis- 
faction, "  that  according  to  the  terms  of  the  treaty 
of  1868,  the  Black  Hills,  as  well  as  other  large  sec- 
tions of  the  country,  were  declared  to  be  a  part  of  the 
Indian  reservations,  and  that  they  were  not,  under 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  165 

any  circumstances,  to  be  trespassed  upon  by  white 
men.  As  long  as  the  Hills  were  thought  to  he 
worthless  the  government  stuck  to  its  agreement, 
and  the  Sioux  were  permitted  to  live  in  peace;  but 
the  minute  gold  was  discovered  there  the  treaty 
was  thrown  to  the  winds,  and  Custer  was  ordered  to 
fit  out  a  strong  expedition  and  look  into  the  matter. 

"Now  that  is  something  for  which  the  Indians  can 
blame  themselves.  Up  to  this  time  they  Lad  always 
been  very  much  averse  to  saying  anything  about 
the  country  and  the  things  that  were  to  be  found 
there,  but  the  few  trappers  who  professed  to  have 
visited  it,  declared  it  to  be  a  land  that  was  full  of 
wonders.  But  then  you  couldn't  place  a  particle  of 
dependence  in  what  they  said,  for  trappers,  like 
sailors,  are  much  given  to  spinning  yarns,  and  no 
one  believed  that  any  white  men  had  ever  been  al- 
lowed to  go  near  the  Hills. 

"  But  one  day  some  of  the  Indians,  who  had  seen 
some  gaudy  articles  in  the  trader's  store  that  they 
desired  to  possess,  were  foolish  enough  to  bring  in 
a  lot  of  dust  and  nuggets,  and  to  admit  that  they 
came  from  the  Hills,  and  then  the  fun  began.  Every- 
body became  excited,  and,  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to 
tell  it,  large  parties  of  miners  were  on  their  way  to  the 
Hills.  Then  Custer  received  his  orders,  and"  on  the 
first  day  of  -July,  1874,  set  out  from  the  village  of 
Bismarck  with  his  expedition.  He  was  not  ordered 
to  put  out  any  miners  he  might  find  there,  but  to 
see  if  there  was  anv  gold  in  the  Hills,  and  that  order 
killed  General  Custer." 

"How  do  you  make  that  out?"  asked  Gus,  who, 
being  a  great  admirer  of  the  dashing  cavalry  leader, 
had  read  everything  regarding  him  and  his  career 
that  he  could  buy  or  borrow.  "  I  thought  he  lost 
his  life  at  the  battle  that  took  place  on  the  Little  Big 
Horn  in  June,  76." 


166  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

"So  lie  did;  but  if  the  government  had  kept  its 
promises  to  the  Indians,  that  battle  would  never 
have  been  fought.  Of  course  it  made  the  Sioux  mad 
to  lose  the  best  part  of  their  reservation,  and  they 
went  to  war  about  it. 

"It  was  during  the  Black  Hills  expedition  that 
two  civilians  attached  to  Custer's  command  were 
killed.  It  was  at  first  supposed  that  the  murder  had 
been  committed  by  hostiles;  but  the  discovery  of 
agency  property  upon  the  ground  where  the  deed 
was  done,  proved  that  some  so  called  '  good  Indians ' 
were  implicated  in  it.  Of  course  it  was  useless  to  try 
and  hunt  them  down. 

"  A  year  and  a  half  afterward,  Charley  Reynolds, 
who  was  one  of  Custer's  scouts,  and  who  fell  at  the 
Little  Horn  battle,  was  at  Standing  Rock  agency 
while  the  Sioux  were  drawing  rations,  and  heard  one  of 
them  boast  that  he  had  shot  two  men  a  while  before, 
and  Charley  knew  at  once,  by  the  description  the 
savage  gave  of  his  victims,  that  they  were  the  doctor 
and  sutler.  More  than  that,  he  exhibited  property 
that  belonged  to  the  two  men,  and  which  Charley 
recognized.     Hold  on  a  minute." 

Gilbert  the  trapper  rose,  and  threw  some  fresh 
logs  on  the  camp  fire.  Then  he  sat  down  again,  and 
went  on  with  his  story. 

"  I  suppose  those  two  civilians  were  killed  because 
they  strayed  away  from  the  column  while  it  was  on 
the  march,"  observed  Jerry. 

"That  was  just  the  way  it  happened,"  replied  Gil- 
bert. "  Not  being  obliged  to  keep  in  ranks,  as  the 
soldiers  were,  they  went  where  their  fancy  led  them, 
and  one  day  it  led  them  to  their  death.  They  stopped 
at  a  little  stream  to  water  their  horses,  and  the  min- 
ute the  column  was  out  of  sight  behind  the  hills,  the 
Indians  surrounded  and  made  an  end  of  them  with- 
out raising  any  alarm. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  167 

"Well,  when  Charley  Reynolds  heard  the  Indian 
boasting  in  the  dance  of  killing  those  two  men,  he 
lost  no  time  in  letting  Custer  know  about  it,  and  a 
hundred  men  were  at  once  detailed  "to  go  to  the 
agency  and  bring  him  in.  Now  that  was  risky  busi- 
ness, I  tell  you.  There  were  at  least  five  hundred 
Indians  at  the  agency  that  day,  armed  to  the  teeth, 
as  they  always  are,  and  it  was  not  at  all  likely  that 
they  would  stand  quietly  by  and  see  the  soldiers 
carry  off  one  of  their  number. 

"  Much  depended  on  keeping  the  object  of  the  ex- 
pedition a  secret  from  everybody,  because  if  the 
troops  spoke  of  their  errand,  the  Sioux  scouts  in  the 
employ  of  the  government  would  be  sure  to  get  hold 
of  it,  and  they  would  send  runners  to  the  agency  be- 
low with  warning  to  the  murderer,  who  would  have 
plenty  of  time  in  which  to  effect  his  escape.  So  the 
soldiers  went  out  under  sealed  orders,  which  were 
not  opened  until  the  fort  had  been  left  twenty  miles 
behind. 

"  The  first  thing  the  officer  in  command  did  when 
he  reached  the  agency,  was  to  send  a  lieutenant  and 
forty  men  to  an  Indian  camp,  ten  miles  away,  to 
make  inquiries  for  some  warriors  who  were  supposed 
to  have  killed  three  settlers  on  Red  River  a  year  or 
so  before,  and  the  next  move  was  to  send  another 
officer,  with  five  picked  men,  to  the  trader's  store, 
with  instructions  to  arrest  Rain-in-the-face  as 
soon " 

"  Rain-in-the-face !  "  interrupted  Gus.  "  \Yhy,  he 
is  the  Indian  who  killed  Custer." 

"  You  seem  to  be  pretty  well  posted,"  replied  Gil- 
bert. "I  did  not  suppose  that  you  knew  so  much 
about  things  on  the  plains." 

"  You  must  remember  that  we  have  been  here  a 
good  while,  and  that  we  have  never  allowed  an  op- 
portunity to  hear  a  story  pass  unimproved,"  said 


168  GILBEET  THE  TKAPPEK. 

Jerry.     "  Besides,  we  read  a  little  now  and  then  be- 
fore we  came  here." 

"But  your  stories  of  Western  life  are  mostly  writ- 
ten by  men  who  could  not  telJ  a  bronco  from  a  coyote 
if  they  should  see  them  together,"  replied  Gilbert. 
"  I  got  hold  of  one  once,  at  Fort  Shaw,  in  which  the 
author  told  of  shooting  a  grizzly  bear  out  of  the  top 
of  a  tree.  Yes  ;  Kain-in-the-face  was  supposed  to 
have  shot  Custer,  but  I  don't  know  whether  he  did 
or  not.  I  wasn't  there,  and  have  never  seen  any  re- 
liable person  who  knew  the  straight  of  that  story. 

"  Well,  this  officer  and  five  picked  men  went  to  the 
store,  and  there  they  stayed  for  long  hours  waiting 
for  the  Indian  they  wanted  to  put  in  an  appearance. 
There  were  several  warriors  in  the  store  when  they 
went  in,  but  as  the  weather  was  cold  they  kept  their 
blankets  wrapped  around  their  heads,  so  that  it  was 
impossible  to  tell  one  from  another  ;  but  at  last  one 
of  them  moved  his  blanket  a  little,  and  in  less  than 
a  second  the  officer  stepped  behind  him  and  grabbed 
his  gun.  There  was  fun  for  a  while,  I  bet  you,  for 
Rain-in-the-face  was  nobody's  coward,  and  if  he  had 
been  given  the  least  show  for  resistance  he  would 
have  hurt  somebody  ;  but  he  was  speedily  disarmed 
and  his  hands  were  tied  behind  him. 

"But  the  danger  wasn't  over  after  Rain-in-the-face 
had  been  secured.  Things  looked  more  squally 
after  that  than  they  did  while  the  struggle  was  going 
on,  for  an  Indian  set  up  a  yelp  to  attract  attention, 
and  then  began  urging  his  friends  to  overpower  the 
soldiers  and  take  their  prisoner  from  them. 

"  The  commanding  officer,  who  had  been  on  the 
outside  watching  things,  at  once  called  all  his  force 
together,  while  the  Indians  came  on  the  jump  from 
every  direction  with  their  weapons  in  their  hands, 
and  threatened  to  do  all  sorts  of  terrible  deeds  if 
their  comrades  were  not  at  once  released.     But  the 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  160 

officer  was  cool  and  prudent  as  well  as  brave  and  de- 
termined, and  the  Indians,  finding  that  they  could 
not  accomplish  anything  by  threats  or  by  the  display 
of   numbers,  resorted   to  parley,  and  offered  to  give 
up  two  of  their  number  if  Rain-in-the-face  were  re- 
stored to  them.  , , 
-But  that  was  too  thin  altogether.     They  would 
have  have  surrendered  some  worthless  members  of 
their  tribe  who  had   never  distinguished  themselves 
in   any   way  ;  and  when  their  proposition  was  de- 
clined thev  scattered,  and  in  less  than  ten  minutes 
there  was  not  an  Indian  to  be  seen  about  the  agency. 

"Where  had  they   gone  ?"  exclaimed  Jerry,  who 
was  taking  in  every  word. 

"  Thev  went  to  their  camp,  ten  miles  below,  to 
hold  a  pow-wow,"  answered  Gilbert     «I  never  heard 
that  thev  decided  upon  any  course  of  action,  but  later 
in  the   day  a  party  of  fifty  of  them  galloped  by  the 
agency,  and  clown  the  road  that  the  troops  would 
have  to  take  to  get  back  to  the  fort.     Of  course  the 
boys  in  blue  expected  to  be  attacked  by  this  part, , 
but  it  turned  out  afterward  that  they  went  to  an  old 
chief  named  Two  Bears,  and  tried  to  induce  him  to 
ioin  with  them   in  rescuing  the  prisoner  ;  but  the 
wise  old  fellow  couldn't  see  it.     It  was  too  near  win- 
ter (in  fact  the  troops  marched  home  through  a  ter- 
rible blizzard)  and  he  thought  too  much  of  his  com- 
fort to  take   to  the  war  trail  during  the  inclement 
season.      Rain-in-the-face  found  his    way   mtc >   the 
guard  house,  from  which  he  escaped  and  went  oft  to 
ioin  Sitting  Bull.     He  sent  a  message  to  Custer  tell- 
in-  him  where  he  was,  and  adding  that  he  was  wait- 
in-  for  his  revenge.     If  he  hadn't  done  that,  probably 
no°one  would  ever  have  thought  of  blaming  him  with 
the  general's  death." 


170  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 


CHAPTEE  XXIII. 

GILBERT    SPEAKS    OF    HIMSELF. 

"If  that  story  is  ended  won't  you  tell  us  something 
about  yourself?"  said  Jerry,  when  Gilbert  paused 
and  settled  back  on  his  blanket.  "  You  don't  talk  as 
though  you  had  lived  on  the  borders  of  civilization 
all  your  life.  I  don't  see  where  you  got  so  good  a 
command  of  language." 

"That  can  be  easily  explained,"  was  the  reply. 
"From  the  time  that  Pete  Axley  brought  me  to  Fort 
Shaw  up  to  the  day  when  Arizona  Charley  took  me 
away  to  the  Navajo  nation,  I  was  mostly  under  the 
control  of  the  ladies  of  the  garrison,  who  not  only 
used  good  language  themselves,  but  made  me  do  it 
too.  They  taught  me  to  read  and  write  as  well,  and 
as  I  was  fond  of  reading  I  devoured  everything  in 
the  way  of  books  and  papers  that  I  could  get  hold  of. 
There  were  no  books  for  boys  in  the  post  library,  so 
I  had  to  be  content  with  histories,  biographies  and 
such  novels  as  Scott  and  Dickens  used  to  write.  I 
think  I  have  made  a  very  fair  start,  considering  the 
chance  I  have  had,  and  perhaps  if  I  could  go  to 
school  I  might  learn  something." 

"Of  course  you  could,"  assented  Gus.  "But  you 
would  find  it  hard  work  after  leading  such  a  life  as 
you  have.  Why  don't  you  go  to  some  city  as  soon 
as  you  get  your  money,  and  go  to  school?" 

"  I  think  it  would  be  a  good  idea,"  said  Gilbert, 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPEM.  i«i 

thoughtfully.     "  By  the  way,  did  that  letter  of  which 
you  spoke  say  where  my  father  lived  I 

"It  did  uot.     It   said, 'I  live  111 and  theie  it 

was  cut  off."  .     ,  ,.-     ,.       , 

"In  the  most  interesting  part,  just  like  the  stories 

in  the  papers,"  chimed  in  Jerry.      _  j? 

«  I  don't  know  what  your  name  is,  either,  contin- 
ued Gus  "Your  Christian  names  are  Gilbert  Hub- 
bard, and  your  surname  begins  with  N-e-v.  Can  you 
make  it  out  from  that  ?  You  might  think  of  it  if  you 
bring  vour  mind  to  bear  upon  it." 

For 'several  minutes  Gilbert  the  trapper  said  noth- 
ino-  He  leaned  his  elbows  on  his  knees  and  stared 
hard  at  the  fire,  as  if  he  hoped  to  see  his  name  writ- 
ten among  its  glowing  coals,  and  then  he  shook  his 

1G"  I  cannot  recall  any  name  beginning  with  those 
letters,  and  can  make  nothing  of  it,"  said  he,  sadly. 
«  Do  you  think  it  is  on  the  other  part  of  the  letter , 

"I  am  sure  of  it,"  answered  Gus.  "Your  father 
would  not  have  taken  the  pains  to  write  a  description 
of  the  place  in  which  he  had  hidden  his  valuables 
without  signing  his  name  to  it,  would  he?  What 
good  would  it  do  you  to  get  the  money  if  you  don 
know  who  you  are  or  where  your  friends  live?  What 
satisfaction  would  it  be  to  you?"  p.,w 

« It  would  be  only  an  aggravation  replied  Gilbert. 
"Everything  now  depends  upon  those. papers  that 
Pete  Axlev  has  in  his  possession."  .  „ 

"  Or  upon  the  copies  that  the  trader  has  m  his, 
said  Gus      "  Of  course  I  should  prefer  to  have  the 
originals  ;  but  if  you  don't  get  them,  don't  fail  to  get 

"  If  Piefail,  it  will  be  because  Captain  Barton  is 
quicker  with  his  revolver  than  I  am  with  mine,  said 
Gilbert  quietly.  "  It  makes  you  horrified  to  hear  one 
talk  about  such  things,  doesn't  it  ?     Well,  I  am  used 


172  GILBEKT  THE  TRAPPER. 

to  it.  Out  here  every  man  is  a  law  unto  himself,  and 
I  should  not  know  how  to  act  if  I  found  myself  in  a 
community  whose  members  all  behaved  themselves 
just  because  it  was  right  to  do  so." 

"Neither  would  I,"  said  Gus.  "There's  no  such 
place  in  the  world.  There  are  bad  people,  even  in 
civilized  communities,  and  they  have  to  be  restrained 
by  law.  Before  I  forget  it — how  did  folks  come  to 
call  3'ou  Gilbert  the  trapper  ?  " 

"  Every  fellow  needs  at  least  twro  handles  to  his 
name,  you  know,"  answered  Gilbert.  "People 
wouldn't  insult  me  by  calling  me  Gilbert  Axley,  be- 
cause they  knew  that  wasn't  my  name.  While  the 
ladies  were  teaching  me  how  to  read,  write  and  talk, 
Arizona  Charley  was  putting  me  through  another 
course  of  sprouts.  He  taught  me  to  ride,  shoot  and 
trap,  and  the  first  winter  I  spent  in  the  mountains 
with  him  I  caught  more  skins  than  he  did  ;  but  that 
was  owing  to  the  fact  that  he  devoted  so  much  time 
to  overlooking  my  work.  When  we  returned  to  the 
agency  some  one  called  me  Gilbert  the  trapper,  and 
the  name  has  clung  to  me  ever  since.  I  shall  not  be 
known  by  any  other  as  long  as  I  remain  here. 

"It  is  an  ill  wind  that  blows  nobody  good,"  con- 
tinued Gibert.  "  The  Ute  outbreak,  wmich  spread 
consternation  among  the  stockmen,  and  the  blizzard 
that  forced  you  and  me  to  take  shelter  in  this  can- 
yon, will  be  the  means  of  clearing  up  the  mystery 
that  hangs  over  my  life.  Where  is  Buckskin  Bob 
now?" 

"He  is  at  Fort  Lewis,  I  suppose,"  replied  Gns. 
"  Captain  Brent  sent  him  there  after  the  fight,  and  I 
don't  believe  he  has  been  able  to  get  awajT  yet.  The 
surgeon  said  his  injuries  might  lay  him  up  for  a 
month  or  so.  I  judge  from  what  you  said  about  him 
that  Grizzly  Pete  used  him  as  a  sort  of  go  between, 
to  hold  communications  with  you." 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  173 

"Yes  ;  I  guess  Pete  was  satisfied  that  if  I  got  one 
look  at  his  face  I  never  could  be  induced  to  acknowl- 
edge him  as  my  father." 

"  And  vet  I  have  heard  that  when  Pete  took  you 
to  Colonel  Starke's  headquarters  you  would  not  go 
to  the  colonel  when  he  held  out  his  hands  to  you, 
but  turned  about  and  climbed  upon  the  squaw  man's 
knee.  That  looks  as  though  you  were  willing  to 
recognize  him  then." 

"It  is  very  likely.  Bob  told  me  that  after  the 
massacre  Pete  took  me  to  his  tepee  and  kept  me 
there  until  he  thought  I  had  had  time  to  forget  all 
about  my  father  and  the  miners  who  were  with  him. 
He  and  his  Indian  wife  treated  me  kindly,  and  it 
was  natural  that  I  should  prefer  their  company  to 
that  of  an  entire  stranger. 

"  Before  long  Bob  began  to  be  sorry  for  the  part 
he  had  taken  in  the  massacre,  and  laid  plans  to  steal 
me  away  from  Pete  and  take  me  back  to  California, 
hoping  that  he  would  there  find  some  of  my  friends, 
who  would  be  willing  to  give  something  handsome 
for  bringing  me  to  them  ;  but  Pete  got  wind  of  it  in 
some  way,  and  that  was  the  reason  he  left  me  at  the 
post.  But  he  wras  guilty  of  a  deliberate  falsehood 
when  he  told  the  colonel  that  there  were  those  in  the 
world  who  wished  me  dead,  so  that  they  could  in- 
herit my  father's  money.  The  colonel  knew  it  well 
enough,  but  the  trouble  was  he  could  not  prove  anv- 
thing." 

"Arizona  Charley  was  your  friend  all  the  way 
through,  and  almost  the  only  one  you  had  to  depend 
on,  wasn't  he  ?  "  said  Gus.  "  How  did  vou  come  to 
lose  him  ?  " 

"  He  died  in  the  Navajo  country  from  the  effects 
of  a  wound  he  received  years  ago,  at  the  hands  of  an 
Indian  whom  he  supposed  to  be  dead,"  answered 
Gilbert.     "  He  got  into  a  fight  while  he  was  out  with 


174  GILBERT  1?HE  TRAPPER. 

the  troops  on  a  scout  after  some  of  Chief  Joseph's 
band.  He  saw  the  Indian  fall,  and  when  he  rode  bv 
him,  the  savage  drew  an  arrow  with  his  last  breath, 
and  sent  it  into  Charley  between  his  shoulders.  The 
head  of  the  arrow  never  came  out  of  the  wound,  and 
Charley  knew  that  it  would  some  day  be  the  cause  of 
his  death.  If  I  hadn't  had  Josh  Saunders  to  fall 
back  on  after  1  lost  Charley  I  don't  know  what  I 
should  have  done." 

"  Scout  Robinson  told  Uncle  Jack  that  there  was 
something  mysterious  about  your  new  partner,"  ob- 
served Jerry. 

Gilbert  laughed. 

"I  told  him  that  he  would  get  himself  talked 
about  if  he  kept  out  of  sight,"  said  he  ;  "  but  Josh 
and  I  know  just  what  we  are  doing.  He  has  come 
out  of  his  hiding  place  every  time  there  was  a  chance 
for  a  brush  with  the  Indians,  but  all  the  scouts  and 
trappers  who  used  to  know  him  years  ago  have  left 
the  country  or  been  killed  off,  and  there  was  no  one 
who  was  acquainted  with  him.  As  soon  as  my 
affairs  are  settled  he  will  come  out  of  the  mountains 
to  stay  ;  and  you  won't  see  Grizzly  Pete  or  Buckskin 
Bob  after  he  comes  out,  either." 


GILBERT  THE  TKAPiPEK,  Ill 


CHAPTER  XXTV. 

MOVING    ON    THE   POST    TRADER. 

It  was  late  when  Gus  and  Jerry  Warren  sought 
their  blankets  that  night.  Being  securely  protected 
from  the  fury  of  the  storm,  and  feeling  safe  in  the 
company  of  Gilbert  the  trapper,  they  slept  soundly, 
and  never  opened  their  eyes  until  they  were  sum- 
moned to  breakfast. 

Fur  two  days  and  three  nights  the  blizzard  kept 
them  closely  confined  to  their  narrow  quarters,  and 
of  course  they  chafed  under  the  restraint.  Gilbert 
was  impatient'  to  be  doing  something  toward  secur- 
ing the  rest  of  the  papers  that  were  so  important  to 
him,  while  Gus  and  his  brother  were  anxious  to  go 
home  and  set  their  uncle's  fears  at  rest.  If  their 
ponies  had  gone  straight  back  to  the  ranch  (and  that 
was  what  Gilbert  said  they  had  done),  of  course 
Uncle  Jack  would  imagine  all  sorts  of  terrible  things 
that  might  have  happened  to  them. 

Gilbert's  presence  was  a  great  comfort  to  them. 
During  his  long  wanderings  in  the  Navajo  nation  he 
had  accumulated  an  almost  inexhaustible  fund  of 
stories,  and  he  seemed  to  find  as  much  pleasure  in 
relating  them  as  Gus  and  Jerry  did  in  listening  to 
them. 

When  he  called  them  to  breakfast  on  the  morning 
of  the  third  day,  Gilbert  put  life  and  energy  into  the 
boys  by  assuring  them  that  if  nothing  unforeseen 
happened,  they  would  be  safe  under   their   uncle's 


176  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

roof  before  supper  time.  The  storm  was  over,  and 
he  had  found,  by  a  hurried  reconnoissance  which  he 
made  at  daylight,  that  tiie  prairie  was  almost  bare  of 
snow.  Of  course  they  would  find  drifts  in  the  gul- 
lies that  lay  in  their  course,  but  they  would  not  be 
deep  enough  to  impede  their  progress. 

With  so  encouraging  a  prospect  as  this  before 
their  eyes,  it  may  be  easily  imagined  that  Gus  and 
Jerry  did  not  spend  any  unnecessary  time  over  their 
bacon  and  crackers.  When  they  had  satisfied  their 
appetites,  Gilbert's  pack,  together  with  all  the  arti- 
cles belonging  to  Gus  and  Jeriy,  was  fastened  upon 
Tom's  back,  and  the  three  set  out  in  high  spirits  for 
Uncle  Jack's  ranch. 

It  wasn't  a  pleasure  trip,  by  any  means.  Having 
almost  lived  in  the  saddle  ever  since  they  came  to 
the  West,  Gus  and  Jerry  found  that  there  was  no  fun 
in  walking,  and  they  were  weary  long  before  they 
had  covered  ten  of  the  forty  miles  that  lay  between 
them  and  Uncle  Jack's  roof  ;  but  about  the  time 
they  began  to  talk  of  stopping  to  take  a  short  rest, 
Gilbert  infused  new  courage  into  them  by  announc- 
ing that  there  was  a  rescue  party  approaching. 

"Yes,  sir !  "  exclaimed  Jerry,  after  he  had  taken  a 
good  look  at  the  horsemen  who  were  coming  rapidly 
toward  them,  "they  are  looking  for  us.  I  believe 
that  head  man  is  Uncle  Jack." 

In  order  to  make  sure  of  it,  Jerry  pulled  off  his 
hat  and  swung  it  around  his  head.  The  signal  was 
promptly  answered,  and  a  few  minutes  later  Gilbert 
and  his  party  were  surrounded  by  a  dozen  or  more 
cowboys,  who,  according  to  Jerry's  way  of  looking  at 
it,  did  not  show  as  much  pleasure  as  the}'  ought  to 
have  done  at  meeting  him  and  his  brother  safe  and 
sound.  Their  city  friends  would  have  made  a  great 
fuss  over  them  ;  but  the  cowboys  simply  shook  their 
hands  and  said  "  howdy."     Although  Uncle  Jack  was 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  179 

immensely  relieved  to  find  that  the  boys  werenone 
the  worse  for  their  experience  with  the  blizzaid,  he 

seemed  quite  as  indifferent  as  the  rest  ;  but  he  was 
surprised  when  he  found  who  their  companion  was. 
"Put  it    there,  partner,"  said    he    bemlmg    down 
from  his  saddle  and  extending  his  hand  to  Gilbert. 
«I  am  ^lad  that  storm  came  and  caught  my  boys 
just  as  it  did,  for  it  has  given  me  the  ™ry  opportun- 
ity I  have  been  waiting  for  ever  since  Captain  Bient 
had  that  fight  in  the  canyon.     I  suppose  the  boys 
have  told  you  all  about  them  papers.     Well   what 
are  yon  going  to  do  ?     You  can  speak  plainly  if  you 
want  to,  for  we  are  all  on  your   side,  and  we  know 
how  to  hold  our  tongues,  too." 

"  I  feel  very  grateful  for  the  interest  you  take  m 
my  affairs,  Mr".  Waldron,"  begun  Gilbert 

«  Of  course.  You  would  be  a  queer  feliow  if  jou 
didn't,"  interrupted  Uncle  Jack.  "  But  that  isn  t  an- 
swering my  question.  I've  got  as  much  as  two  or 
three  years  more  on  my  shoulders  than  you  have  on 

y°«  I  'know  what  you  mean  by  that."  said  Gilbert, 
-and  shall  be  very  glad  to  have  yoii l  advise  me.  I 
had  made  up  my  mind  to  go  down  to  Fort  Sha*  and 
call  on  the  trader." 

"  Put  it  there !  "  exclaimed  Uncle  Jack,  again 
thrusting  out  his  hand.  "I  had  a  notion  of  doing 
the  same  thing  ;  but  I  will  go  with  vou  and  look  on 
if  vou  don't  mind.  Give  him  a  horse,  one  of  you, 
and  let  two  others  take  the  boys  up  behind.  Take 
Gilbert's  horse  and  the  packs  to  the  ranch,  and  look 
for  us  day  after  tomorrow."  . 

These  orders  were  obeyed  almost  as  rapidh  as 
thev  were  given,  and  presently  two  parties  were  ru- 
in" away  in  opposite  directions.,  Uncle  Jack  and  Gil- 
bert heading  for  the  hills,  and  the  cowboys  going 
toward  the  ranch. 


180  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPEK. 

"I  don't  like  to  have  them  go  off  alone  that  way," 
said  Jerry,  at  length.  "If  the  trader  is  the  terrible 
fellow  that  Buckskin  Bob  thinks  he  is,  Uncle  Jack 
and  Gilbert  may  get  into  trouble  with  him." 

"Don't  bother  your  head  about  that,"  said  one  of 
the  cowboys,  reassuringly.  "I  don't  know  anything 
about  the  young  feller,  'cepting  what  I  have  heard, 
but  your  uncle  is  too  old  a  coon  to  let  anybody  get 
the  drop  on  him.  'Tain't  no  sign  that  the  trader  is 
a  bad  man  in  a  row  jest  'cause  Bob  says  so." 

"But  suppose  Grizzly  Pete  should  be  there,"  said 
Gus. 

"  Aw !  he  wouldn't  do  anything,"  said  another, 
contemptuously.  "  He  never  does  anything  unless 
he's  got  a  lot  of  Injuns  at  his  back  so  that  he  can 
throw  the  blame  on  their  shoulders.  A  man  who 
will  sail  under  false  colors  ain't  the  man  to  be  afraid 
of." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  Why,  you  know,  don't  you,  that  when  an  Injun 
kills  a  grizzly  he  is  entitled  to  wear  the  claws  around 
his  neck  ?  That  stamps  him  as  a  very  brave  man, 
equal  to  the  one  that  has  taken  many  scalps,  and  you 
could  hardly  offer  him  ponies  enough  to  induce  him 
to  part  with  them  claws.  Well,  Pete  has  made  out  to 
steal  a  necklace  of  that  kind  somewhere,  and  calls  him- 
self Grizzly  Pete,  claiming  to  have  killed  the  bear  that 
owned  the  claws  ;  but  he  has  never  been  able  to  make 
anybody  about  here  believe  a  word  of  it.  Here  come 
them  soldiers  we  saw  the  other  day.  I  wonder  if 
they  caught  them  four  deserters." 

The  cowboy's  last  words  were  called  forth  by  the 
sight  of  a  scouting  party  of  cavalrymen,  who  just 
then  came  in  sight  a  short  distance  away. 

"  Well,  sergeant,  did  you  find  them  fellers?  "  one  of 
the  cowboys  shouted,  as  soon  as  the  soldiers  came 
within  hail. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  181 

The  non  commissioned  officer  who  was  in  command 
of  the  squad  drew  rein  long  enough  to  reply  that  he 
had  found  no  traces  of  the  deserters  of  whom  he  was 
in  chase.  He  had  no  idea  which  way  they  had  gone, 
and  the  storm  had  effectually  covered  their  trail.   . 

The  sergeant  added  that  he  wasn't  sorry  he  had 
missed  them,  for  there  were  four  of  them  in  the 
party,  all  well  mouuted  and  armed,  and  they  would 
have  made  a  desperate  fight,  rather  than  permit 
themselves  to  be  captured  and  taken  back  to  the 
post. 

"  What  was  their  object  in  deserting  at  this  time 
of  year,  any  way?  "  asked  one  of  the  cowboys. 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  the  sergeant.  "  They've 
got  some  plan  or  other  in  their  heads,  but  what  it  is 
I  can't  imagine.  I  will  bet  a  month's  pay  that  they 
wished  themselves  back  at  Fort  Shaw  about  the  time 
that  blizzard  came  upon  them." 

Waving  his  hand  the  sergeant  galloped  on  to  over- 
take his  squad,  while  the  cowrboys  continued  on  their 
way  toward  Uncle  Jack's  ranch. 

"What  fellows  are  they?"  inquired  Gus.  "  Why 
do  men  desert  out  here  on  the  plains  ?  I  thought 
they  did  that  only  in  war  times." 

"  They  do  it  any  time  they  get  sick  of  the  service, 
no  matter  when  it  is,"  answered  one  of  the  cowboys. 
"At  the  close  of  the  war  there  was  a  heap  of  it  done. 
Having  enlisted  for  'three  years  or  the  war,'  the 
soldiers  contended  that  they  ought  to  be  sent  home 
instead  of  being  ordered  to  guard  duty  on  the 
frontier,  and  they  deserted  by  hundreds,  thereby 
forfeiting  all  the  pay  the  government  owed  them. 
But  they  didn't  care  for  that.  They  were  heartily 
tired  of  the  army  and  wanted  to  be  free  men  once 
more." 

"The  Black  Hills  gold  excitement  was  one  thing 
that  set  them  to  going,"  remarked  another  cowboy. 


182  GILBERT  THE  TKAPPEB. 

"  Yes  ;  the  prospect  of  making  money  always  sets 
them  crazy,"  said  a  third.  "  Let  a  party  of  cavalry- 
men discover  signs  of  gold  during  a  scout,  and  it's 
ten  to  one  if  the  whole  of  that  party  ever  gets  back 
to  the  post  to  which  they  belong." 

"  I  should  think  they  would  be  afraid  of  the  In- 
dians," said  Jerry. 

"  Well,  as  a  general  thing  they  go  between  times. 
If  the  Indians  are  bad,  they  stay  at  the  post  till  they 
get  quiet  again.  They  run  a  quick  risk  at  all  times, 
and  more  than  one  party  of  deserters  have  left  their 
bones  whitening  on  the  plain." 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  183 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

CAPTAIN  BARTON'S  DEFEAT. 

Meanwhile  Gilbert  and  his  companion  were  mating 
rapid  headway  toward  the  hills.  Knowing  that  they 
would  be  obliged  to  camp  out  at  least  one  night  on 
the  way  to  the  fort,  they  decided  to  halt  in  the  canyon 
where  Gilbert  had  found  the  boys.  Of  course  the 
young  trapper  had  to  go  all  oyer  his  story  again  for 
TJncle  Jack's  benefit,  and  the  ranchman  showed  as 
deep  an  interest  in  the  recital  as  his  nephews  did 

He  perfectly  agreed  with  Gilbert  that  if  the  latter 
could  only  get  hold  of  the  rest  of  the  papers,  or 
secure  a  copy  of  them,  he  would  have  plain  sailing 
before  him.  'The  trader  could  not  read  them,  that 
was  evident,  or  else  he  would  not  have  waited  so  long 
before  taking  possession  of  the  nuggets  and  dust 
that  were  concealed  in  Sweetwater  Canyon.  Gus 
Warren,  Uncle  Jack  declared,  was  the  only  person 
on  the  reservation  who  could  make  sense  out  of  that 
cryptogram.  Perhaps  we  shall  see  that  the  confident 
old  ranchman  made  a  great  mistake  when  he  said 

At  four  o'clock  the  next  afternoon  the  stockade 
that  was  known  far  and  near  as  Fort  Shaw  was  in 
plain  sight.  Uncle  Jack  and  his  young  associate 
must  haye  made  up  their  minds  just  what  to  do 
when  they  got  there,  for  without  stopping  to  ex- 
change a  word  with  each  other,  they  rode  at  once  to 
the  trader's  store,  and  dismounted  in  front   of  it. 


184  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

Leaving  his  horse  to  take  care  of  himself,  Gilbert 
pushed  open  the  door  and  entered,  with  Uncle  Jack 
Waldron  close  at  bis  heels. 

Captain  Barton  was  alone  in  the  store — or  at  least 
they  thought  he  was  ;  but  if  there  had  been  a  dozen 
men  present,  it  would  not  have  made  the  least  differ- 
ence to  Gilbert  the  trapper.  He  had  come  there  after 
those  papers,  and  he  meant  to  have  them  before  he 
went  out  again. 

When  Uncle  Jack  closed  the  door  he  turned  the 
key  in  the  lock,  while  Gilbert  kept  on  and  confronted 
the  trader. 

"  Captain  Barton,"  said  he,  in  his  blandest  tones, 
"I  understand  that  you  have  in  your  possession 
copies  of  certain  documents  which  are  of  no  interest 
or  value  to  you,  but  which  contain  some  information 
that  it  is  important  for  me  to  know.  Will  you  be 
kind  enough  to  hand  them  over  tome?  What  in 
the  world  can  be  the  matter  with  him,  1  wonder?" 
added  Gilbert,  to  himself.  "He  trembles  like  a  leaf. 
He  must  have  seen  us  coming  and  known  by  the  way 
we  rode  that  our  errand  boded  no  good  to  him." 

That  was  the  secret  of  the  trader's  agitation,  and 
it  was  also  the  reason  why  Pete  Axley,  who  was  in 
the  store  with  him,  and  who  knew  that  there  was  no 
possible  chance  for  him  to  escape  from  the  building 
without  being  seen,  dodged  under  one  of  the  counters 
and  pulled  a  pile  of  skins  on  top  of  him. 

Captain  Barton  looked  at  Gilbert,  who  was  appar- 
ently as  calm  as  a  summer's  morning,  then  at  the  de- 
termined old  man  who  stood  wdth  his  back  against 
the  door  and  his  revolver  in  his  hand,  and  instantly 
decided  upon  his  line  of  defense. 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  he  be- 
gan ;  and  Gilbert's  right  hand  went  around  to  the 
butt  of  his  own  revolver.  "  I  have  the  copy  of  a 
letter  here  with   the  name  of  '  Gilbert '  upon  it,  but 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  185 

whether  or  not  it  is  anything  in  which  you  are  inter- 
ested  I   do    not   know.     I   will   gladly   show   it   to 

5   "You  mean  that  you  will  give  it  to  me,"  interposed 
Gilbert.     "It  belongs  to  me,  and  you  know  it  well 

enough."  _    _  ,, 

While  the  trader  was  talking  he  moved  down  the 
store  toward  his  desk,  and  Gilbert  stepped  behind 
the  counter  and  followed  him. 

"You  have  copies  of  two  papers  that  belong  to 
me,"  said  the  latter,  in  a  quiet,  even  voice  which 
alarmed  his  listener  not  a  little.  "  One  is  a  letter 
written  in  plain  English,  and  the  other  is  one  that 
you  haven't  been  able  to  make  out  yet.  If  you  had, 
you  would  have  been  after  that  money  in  Sweet- 
water Canyon  before  this  time." 

The  hand  with  which  the  trader  lifted  the  lid  of 
his  desk  trembled  visibly,  while  the  concealed  listener 
under  the  counter  was  so  astounded  that  he  could 
hardly  refrain  from  giving  utterance  to  the  oath  that 
arose  to  his  lips.  At  that  moment  Pete  Axley  would 
willingly  have  given  his  share  of  the  dust  and  nug- 
gets to  any  one  who  would  tell -him  where  Gilbert 
the  trapper  got  all  his  information. 

Captain  Barton  did  not  say  a  word.  He  dared  not 
trust  himself  to  speak,  and  besides  he  knew  that 
Gilbert  would  not  believe  a  word  he  said.  The  boy  s 
eyes  had  a  savage  glitter  in  them,  and  the  trader 
could  not  help  wondering  what  he  wouid  do  when 
he  got  the  coveted  papers  in  his  hands. 

Almost  overcome  with  amazement  and  alarm,  Cap- 
tain Barton  laid  the  lid  of  his  desk  against  a  pile  of 
^oods  that  were  stowed  upon  the  counter,  raised  a 
package  of  letters  in  one  corner,  took  out  an  en- 
velope and  was  about  to  pass  it  to  Gilbert,  when  he 
saw,  with  added  astonishment,  that  it  was  not  the 
one  he  wanted. 


186  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

Hurriedly  lie  tumbled  over  the  letters,  and  just  as 
Gilbert  was  expecting  to  bear  him  declare  that  the 
papers  of  which  he  was  in  search  had  been  abstracted 
from  his  desk,  he  picked  up  another  envelope  and 
handed  it  over  with  the  remark  that  that  was  the 
one  he  was  looking  for,  and  that  it  had  been  mislaid. 

Then  it  was  Gilbert's  turn  to  show  excitement.  He 
read  the  letter  without  the  least  trouble,  but  the 
cryptogram  bothered  him  just  as  it  had  bothered  the 
trader. 

"  Mr.  Waldron,"  said  he,  "  will  you  be  good  enough 
to  step  this  way  a  moment  ?  I  want  to  be  sure  that  I 
have  got  what  I  want." 

Before  Uncle  Jack  left  the  door,  he  took  the  pre- 
caution to  put  the  key  into  his  pocket.  Then  he 
walked  up  to  the  counter  and  placed  his  pistol  upon 
it  within  easy  reach  of  his  hand.  He  looked 
sharply  at  both  the  papers,  and  finally  gave  it  as  his 
opinion  that  they  were  true  copies  of  the  originals. 

"  Then  we  have  nothing  further  to  do  here,"  said 
Gilbert,  whose  self  control  was  wonderful.  "Cap- 
tain, we  will  bid  you  good  day.  I  suppose  this  is  a 
great  surprise  to  you,  and  a  disappointment  as  well. 
Of  course  I  feel  very  grateful  toward  }Tou  for  at- 
tempting to  defraud  me  of  my  rights." 

"  But  I  don't,"  roared  Uncle  Jack,  pounding  upon 
the  counter  with  the  butt  of  his  heavy  revolver,  and 
leaving  a  huge  dent  after  each  blow.  "  If  I  wasn't 
opposed  to  all  such  doings,  I  would  raise  such  a  row 
about  this  business  that  all  the  blue  coats  on  the 
reservation  couldn't  protect  you,  you — you ■" 

Utterly  at  a  loss  for  a  wrord  strong  enough  to  ex- 
press his  contempt  for  the  cringing  man  on  the  other 
side  of  the  counter,  Uncle  Jack  shook  his  fist  in  his 
face,  turned  on  his  heel  and  started  for  the  door. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  187 


CHAPTER  XXYI. 

THE  JOURNEY  TO  SWEETWATER  CANYON. 

"Nevins,  Nevins  !  "  murmured  Gilbert  the  trapper, 
as  he  and  Uncle  Jack  "Waldron  galloped  away  from 
the  trader's  store.  "  My  name  is  Gilbert  Hubbard 
Nevins." 

"  So  it  seems,"  replied  his  companion.  "  Buckskin 
Bob  could  not  tell  the  truth,  even  when  lie  thought 
he  was  going  to  die,  could  he?  I  knew  he  was  de- 
ceiving me,  find  that  the  Iltes  were  responsible  for 
the  death  of  those  miners,  as  well  as  I  know  it  now  ; 
but  I  could  not  prove  it.  I  believed  that  time  would 
make  everything  straight." 

"I've  got  the  papers,''  said  Gilbert,  gleefully, 
"and  now  all  that  remains  is  for  me  to  open  that 
cache.  My  father  lived  in  Clayton,  Massachusetts. 
Is  that  very  far  from  here?  " 

"I  never  heard  of  such  a  place  as  Clayton,"  an- 
swered Uncle  Jack.  "  But  Massachusetts  must  be 
all  of  two  thousand  miles  from  here  in  a  straight 
line.  How  many  miles  you  would  have  to  travel  to 
get  there,  I  don't  know." 

"How  shall  I  go  to  work  to  find  out  if  any  of  my 
relatives  are  still  living  there?  "  continued  Gilbert. 

"Write  a  letter  to  the  postmaster,  telling  him  that 
you  want  to  get  on  the  trail  of  your  folks,  who  used 
to  live  in  Clayton,  and  asking  him  to  give  the  letter 
into  the  hands  of  some  honest  lawyer  of  his  acquaint- 


188  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

ance,"  replied  Uncle  Jack.  "  He'll  do  it — such  things 
are  often  done.  Then  the  lawyer  will  write  to  you, 
and  you  can  tell  him  what  you  want  him  to  do." 

"  I  declare  I  can  hardly  hold  myself  in  the  saddle," 
exclaimed  Gilbert ;  but  that  was  no  news  to  Uncle 
Jack.  If  he  had  had  as  good  a  prospect  of  seeing 
his  relatives  as  Gilbert  seemed  to  have,  he  would 
have  been  excited  himself. 

But  after  all,  thought  Uncle  Jack,  a  good  many 
changes  must  have  taken  place  in  Clayton  since  Gil- 
bert's fatber  left  it  to  seek  his  fortune  in  the  gold 
mines.  A  multitude  of  people  die  or  move  away  in 
that  time,  even  in  a  little  country  town,  and  who 
could  tell  but  that  all  Gilbert's  relatives  had  disap- 
peared ? 

The  old  ranchman  did  not  say  a  word  of  this,  how- 
ever. His  young  companion  wTas  supremely  happy 
for  once  in  his  life,  and  the  future  looked  very  bright 
to  him.  Why  not  let  him  enjoy  himself  while  he 
could  ? 

"If  this  turns  out  all  right,  I  shall  always  bless  the 
day  I  fired  that  lucky  shot  up  there  in  the  canyon," 
thought  Uncle  Jack,  allowing  his  gaze  to  rest  for  a 
moment  on  Gilbert's  glowing  face.  "But  there's 
mauy  a  slip — there's  many  a  slip." 

The  miles  that  lay  between  Fort  Shaw  and  Uncle 
Jack's  ranch  seemed  to  have  lengthened  out  since 
the  last  time  they  passed  over  them,  but  in  due  sea- 
son they  drew  rein  in  front  of  its  hospitable  doors, 
and  found  Gus  and  Jerry  Warren  waiting  to  welcome 
them.  There  was  no  need  for  the  boys  to  ask  if  they 
had  succeeded  in  getting  the  papers,  for  the  smile 
on  Gilbert's  face  and  Uncle  Jack's  answered  the 
question  while  it  was  trembling  on  their  lips. 

"Were — er — did  he  hand  them  over  without  mak- 
ing any  objections?  "  inquired  Jerry,  leading  the  way 
into  the  house. 


GILBERT  THE  TKAPPEE.  189 

"He  was  as  peaceable  and  quiet  as  a  lamb,"  replied 

Uncle  Jack,  as  he  drew  a  chair  up  in  front  o  the  fire 
and  motioned  to  Gilbert  to  occupy  it.  I  don  t 
know  when  I  have  seen  a  man  so  willm'  to  accommo- 
date a  feller  as  that  trader  was.  The  minute  he 
found  out  what  Gilbert  wanted,  he  went  to  his  desk 
and  trot  em— the  very  minute."  . 

Gas  noticed  that  his  relative  did  not  say  anything 
about  the  means  that  he  and  ^dber  had  used  to 
make  the  trader  so  accommodating,  and  he  knei\ 
that  it  would  not  do  any  good  to  pry  into  the  matter. 

"Did  vou  see  Grizzly  Pete ? "  asked  Jerry. 

"No-he  «"•*  th^'e'     N°W'  GT'  tr°\  °Ut   i  u 
papers  I  gave  vou  t'other  day,  and  then  se   yourself 

down  at  that  table  and  make  sense  out  of  the  rest  of 

GuJi-eadilTcomplied,  for  he  was  quite  as  impa- 
tient to  know  what  the  cryptogram  said  as  Gilbeit 
lias  e  en  though  he  did  not  have  as  deep  an  interest 
n  rt     The  ftrft  thing  he  did  was  to  compare  the 
copies  with  those  portions  of  the  original  letter  and 
crvptogram  that  Uncle  Jack  had  found  m  B«ckskm 
Bob's  tobacco  box,  and  he  saw  in  a  moment  that  Gil- 
bert 1  ad  not  been  deceived-that  the   trader  had 
made  correct  copies  of  all  the  lepers  whicli  he  1 ad 
surrendered    on   demand,   instead    ot    substituting 
others  as  Gus  was  afraid  he  might  have  done     The 
ktto  and  cryptogram  both  bore  the  same  date  and 

Sl^tt  must  be  a  great  relief  to  Gilbert  to  know  what 
his  name  is  and  where  Ids  father's  folks  live  '  thought 
Gus?  as  he  seated  himself  at  the  table  and  began  Ins 
work  upon  the  cipher.  "  I  never  saw  him  so  worked 
up  before.  I  only  hope  that  things  will  turn  out  as 
be  seems  to  think  they  will  ;  but  what  if  he  should 
go  to  "hat  cache  and'  find  that  some  one  has  been 
there  and  dug  it  up?     He  wouldn't  care  much  foi 


190  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

the  loss  of  the  dust  and  nuggets,   but   he   would 

always  live  under  the  belief  that  if  he  had  got  there 

first,  he    would   have  found  some  more  important 

papers." 

Knowing  just  how  to  go  about  it,  Gus  did  not 

take   more   than   ten  minutes  to  translate  the  entire 

cryptogram.     At  the  end  of  that  time  he  arose  from 

the  table  and  handed  Gilbert  the  following  : 

On  the  left  hand  side  of  the  canyon,  three  miles  from  leaning 
scrub  oak  tree  at  entrance,  under  hanging  rock,  two  feet  below 
surface.  Remove  leaves  and  stones,  and  the  fruits  of  years  of 
toil  will  be  revealed.  Give  it  to  my  boy,  I  pray  you ;  it  belongs 
to  him. 

For  a  long  time  Gilbert  the  trapper,  as  I  shall  con- 
tinue to  call  him,  sat  with  his  eyes  fastened  upon  the 
paper,  and  no  one  spoke  to  him.  What  thoughts  of 
the  past  and  hopes  for  the  future  crowded  and  jostled 
one  another  in  his  busy  brain,  nobody  except  himself 
ever  knew. 

Gilbert  had  little  of  the  poetic  fancy  about  him, 
and  he  could  not  have  put  them  into  words  if  he  had 
tried.  Neither  can  I.  He  was  very  quiet,  and  had 
little  to  say  after  that ;  and  when  he  followed  Uncle 
Jack  to  his  room  at  an  early  hour,  he  did  not  go 
there  to  sleep. 

Insomnia  had  never  troubled  him  before,  but  it  sat 
by  his  pillow  the  livelong  night,  and  Gilbert  never 
closed  his  eyes  in  slumber.  He  was  so  impatient  to 
be  off  that  he  would  hardly  eat  any  breakfast,  or 
wait  until  Uncle  Jack  could  get  the  expedition  ready 
to  take  the  trail.  For  it  was  a  work  of  no  small  mag- 
nitude that  the  good  natured  ranchman  had  taken 
upon  himself  when  he  promised  to  stand  by  Gilbert 
and  assist  him  until  he  had  made  himself  master  of 
the  treasure  that  was  concealed  in  Sweetwater  Can- 
yon, although  he  talked  of  it  with  the  same  indiffer- 
ence that  you  would  talk  of  taking  a  walk  to  the 
post  office. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  191 

Winter  was  fairly  upon  them  (it  promised  to  be  a 
severe  one,  too,  Uncle  Jack  said),  and  the  canyon 
was  all  of  two  hundred  miles  away.  It  was  no  boy's 
play  to  travel  that  distance  at  that  season  of  the 
year,  and  in  order  to  make  the  journey  with  any 
prospect  of  success,  it  was  necessary  that  they  should 
go  prepared  to  face  all  sorts  of  weather. 

Consequently  it  took  time  to  get  ready,  and  dinner 
was  served  up  before  Sam  reported  that  all  the  ar- 
rangements had  been  made. 

"  Look  here,"  said  Gus,  who  listened  attentively  to 
all  Uncle  Jack's  orders,  and  watched  the  £>repara- 
tions  with  a  critical  eye.  "You  haven't  made  any 
provision  for  Jerry  and  me,  and  neither  have  you 
said  one  word  about  us." 

"  Why,  yes,  we  have,"  replied  the  ranchman.  "  You 
are  to  stay  here,  as  snug  as  bugs  in  a  rug,  while  Gil- 
bert and  me  and  a  couple  of  cowbo3Ts  go  into  the 
hills  and  run  the  risk  of  freezing  to  death  or  being 
chewed  up  by  mountain  lions  in  the  effort  to  find 
the  place  where  those  things  are  hidden.  What 
other  provision  do  you  want  made  for  you  and 
Jerry?" 

"Why,  we  want  to  hear  you  tell  Sam  to  bring  out 
a  horse  apiece  for  us,  and  see  our  grub  put  into  the 
pack,"  replied  Gus.     "That's  what  we  want." 

One  would  have  thought,  by  the  way  Uncle  Jack 
opened  his  eyes,  that  he  was  very  much  surprised  at 
this,  but  he  wasn't.  He  had  been  looking  for  it  ever 
since  he  announced  his  determination  to  go  with  his 
guest  in  search  of  the  cache  ;  but  he  knew  by  exj:>e- 
rien^e  that  the  foothills  were  no  place  for  tender- 
feet  in  winter. 

"  The  idea  of  such  a  thing !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  i 
don't  want  to  carry  you  down  to  the  post  and  watch 
the  doctor  patch  you  up  after  being  frostbitten,  and 
I  ain't  going  to  run  any  risks.     If  it  was  summer  we 


192  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

would  take  you  along  to  pay  you  for  reading  that 
cryptogram  for  us;  but  as  it  is,  it  ain't  to  be  thought 
of." 

That  settled  the  matter;  and  Gus  and  Jerry  stood 
on  the  porch  an  hour  after  dinner,  and  waved  a  sor- 
rowful farewell  to  Uncle  Jack  and  Gilbert  as  they 
rode  away. 

They  took  four  cowboys  with  them  to  help  find  the 
cache  and  to  look  oat  for  the  pack  mules.  There 
were  two  of  these  useful  animals,  and  each  one  of 
them  carried  a  hug-e  pack  saddle,  which  was  filled  to 
the  top  with  blankets  and  provisions  for  the  party, 
together  with  spades  and  picks  with  which  to  un- 
earth the  treasure  after  they  had  located  it  with  the 
aid  of  the  translation  that  Gilbert  had  in  his  pocket. 

They  were  gone  a  whole  month — and  came  back 
empty  handed. 

While  on  their  journey  they  suffered  severely  from 
the  cold,  and  all  of  them  were  more  or  less  frost- 
bitten. Old  winter  opened  his  vials  of  wrath  upon 
them,  sent  blizzard  after  blizzard  to  beat  upon  their 
devoted  heads,  blocked  them  up  in  the  canyons  and 
pinched  their  ears  and  toes  in  camp,  and  the  nearer 
they  approached  to  the  goal  of  their  hopes,  the 
harder  he  tried  to  drive  them  back. 

They  kept  on  in  spite  of  it  all,  and  at  last  found 
the  cache ;  but  it  was  empty.  Somebody  had  been 
there  before  them. 

During  their  absence  a  most  remarkable  thing 
happened  within  a  short  distance  of  Uncle  Jack's 
ranch. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  195 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE    THIEF    OF    THE    CRYPTOGRAM. 

The  moment  his  front  door  closed  upon  Uncle 
Jack  Waldron's  retreating  form,  Captain  Barton's 
terror  vanished,  and  he  went  into  a  towering  pas- 
sion. Dashing  both  his  clinched  hands  upon  the 
lid  of  his  desk,  lie  hurried  to  the  window  and  stood 
there  until  Gilbert  and  his  friend  had  ridden  out  of 
sight. 

Hearing  a  slight  sound  behind  him,  he  turned 
about  and  saw  the  squaw  man  on  his  hands  and 
knees  under  the  counter,  every  part  of  his  person 
except  his  head  concealed  by  the  skins  which  he  had 
pulled  over  on  him  when  Gilbert  the  trapper  dis- 
mounted in  front  of  the  store.  His  face  was  the  pic- 
ture of  astonishment,  and  he  was  swearing  softly  to 
himself. 

"  Be  we  awake  ? "  he  managed  to  articulate.  "  Seems 
like  a  bad  dream,  don't  it?  Whar  do  you  reckon 
Gilbert  found  out  about  them  papers  ?  " 

"I  wTish  I  knew,"  answered  the  trader,  leaving  the 
window  and  striding  up  and  down  the  floor.  "I 
knew  the  minute  I  saw  him  and  \Valdron  coming 
toward  the  store  at  that  furious  rate  that  there  was 
something  in  the  wind." 

"  Me,  too,"  said  the  squaw  man.  M  An'  that's  the 
reason  I  got  under  yer." 

"Well,  crawl  out  now,  and  put  those  skins  back 
where  you  found  them.    I  warned  you  long  ago  that 


194  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

we  bad  secret  enemies  all  around  us,  and  now  you 
know  it  as  well  as  I  do.  Gilbert's  got  the  papers — 
bat  they  won't  do  him  one  particle  of  good." 

"  Eh  ?  "  said  the  squaw  man,  pausing  in  his  work 
of  piling  up  the  skins. 

"  I  spoke  plainly  enough,  didn't  I  ?  "  snapped  the 
trader.  "  I  say  those  papers  will  not  do  Gilbert  the 
least  good,  because  if  that  cache  hasn't  been  robbed 
before  this,  it  will  be  when  he  gets  to  it." 

The  squaw  man's  astonishment  was  so  great  that 
he  could  not  go  on  with  his  work.  He  climbed  upon 
the  counter,  stared  fixedly  at  Captain  Barton,  and 
waited  for  him  to  explain. 

"  I  know  exactly  where  I  put  that  envelope  the 
last  time  I  looked  at  the  papers  that  were  in  it," 
continued  the  trader  ;  "  but  when  I  came  to  look  for 
it,  it  wasn't  there.  It  was  somewhere  else;  and  that 
proves  that  some  prying  person  has  been  fooling 
jibout  in  my  desk." 

"  I  never !  "  said  Grizzly  Pete,  earnestly. 

"Who  said  you  had?"  replied  Captain  Barton, 
contemptuously.  "What  would  you  do  with  val- 
uable j>apers,  when  you  can't  tell  a  white  man's  writ- 
ing from  turkey  tracks  ?  I  wish  I  could  only  get  a 
good  grip  on  that  rascal's  collar.  I  would  land  him 
in  the  military  prison  before  I  let  up,  I  bet  you." 

"  Did  he  steal  'em  ?  " 

"  I  couldn't  have  given  them  up  to  Gilbert  if  he 
had  stolen  them,  could  I  ?  He  copied  them,  and 
that's  just  as  bad." 

"  Who  do  you  reckon  done  it  ?  " 

"  That  villain,  Dawson." 

"Whoop  !  "  yelled  the  squaw  man,  jumping  off  the 
counter  and  dancing  about  over  the  floor  as  though 
he  had  accidentally  stepped  on  something  hot.  "An' 
he's  desarted  the  post,  him  an'  them  other  fellers, 
an'  gone  to  dig  up  them  dust  and  nuggets  ?  " 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  195 


tsre 
e 


"You  have  hit  it,"  replied  the  trader,  whose 
would  not  permit  him  to  speak  as  plainly  as  h 
usually  did.  "  Listen  to  this  :  I  found  it  in  the  desk 
and  shoved  it  into  my  pocket  before  Gilbert  saw  it. 
I  knew  that  he  would  find  that  cache  empty  when  he 
ffot  to  it,  but  I  didn't  dare  tell  him  so,  for  he  and  old 
man  Waldron  were  all  ready  to  shoot,  and  mad 
enough  to  do  it,  too.  Besides,  I  wanted  to  have 
them  make  that  long  journey  through  the  snow,  and 
no  to  a  heap  of  trouble  for  nothing." 

As  Captain  Barton  said  this  he  drew  out  a  small 
piece  of  crumpled  paper  and  read  as  follows  : 

r^A  hv  pan    Much  obliged  to  you  for  taking  me  in  to  wait 
on  th^stire  Ind  cheat  the  Indians,  for  it  has  been  ^making 

ffir     Wefi  can     Whv  didn't  you  take  me  into  your  confi- 

nnd  T  would  not  have  been  driven  to  desert.'    Hoping  tnese 
few  lines  will  find  you  well,  as  they  leave  me,  I  remote. 

"Whoop!"  yelled  the  squaw  man,  again.     "The 
fortius  gone,  an'  here's  us  as  poor  as  a  church  mice 
Cap,  if  vou'd  a  took  that  feller  in  with  you  an  left 
me  out  in  the  cold,  I  would  a  popped  you  both  over 
shore's  you're  born."  m  . 

"What's  the  use  of  going  on  in  that  wa}  i  said, 
the  trader,  in  disgust.  "  I  didn't  take  him  m,  for  I 
didn't  know  that  he  or  anybody  else  about  the  post 
could  read  that  cryptogram.  If  I  had  known  it  he 
added  to  himself,  "you  may  be  sure  thatOE. would 
have  crone  to  him  the  first  thing.  Thats  the  end  of 
thai  dream,  and  it's  the  way  all  my  dreams  end.  I 
shall  never  have  another  chance  like  it  while  I  live 

"Say,  cap,"  said  Grizzly  Pete,  suddenly  "who  do 
you  reckon  Gilbert's  going  to  get  to  read  that  Dutch 
paper  for  him  ?  " 


196  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

The  trader  said  lie  couldn't  guess. 

"Wal,  now,  how  do  we  know  but  what  Dawson 
meant  to  hunt  him  up  an'  offer  to  go  snucks  with 
him?" 

Captain  Barton  started,  and  took  time  to  consider 
before  answering. 

"I  don't  think  that  was  his  intention,"  said  he, 
after  a  pause.  "  If  he  had  meant  to  do  that  he  would 
not  have  taken  three  fellows  with  him  to  share  in  the 
profits.  No,  sir.  He  and  his  companions  have  gone 
straight  to  Sweetwater  to  dig  up  that  money.  We 
shall  never  see  the  color  of  it,  and  neither  will  Gil- 
bert.    There's  some  consolation  in  that." 

These  two  worthy  men  spent  an  hour  or  more  in 
trying  to  solve  the  problems  that  had  presented 
themselves  during  this  discussion,  but  the  only  point 
on  which  they  were  positive  was  that  Dawson  had 
made  a  copy  of  the  papers  he  had  found  in  the 
trader's  desk,  and  deserted  his  post  with  the  inten- 
tion of  hunting  up  Gilbert's  money.  The  note  he 
left  behind  him  was  proof  enough  of  that. 

And  now  it  remains  for  me  to  tell  who  Dawson 
was,  and  how  he  came  to  have  access  to  the  trader's 
desk,  which  was  marked  "  private,"  and  was  gener- 
ally kept  locked. 

He  was  one  of  the  laziest  and  most  turbulent 
members  of  the  90th  Cavalry.  He  never  volunteered 
for  any  duty,  was  always  in  trouble,  and  seldom  kept 
out  of  the  guard  house  for  a  week  at  a  time  when  his 
company  was  at  the  fort,  He  had  been  punished 
for  nearly  every  offense  known  to  military  law,  with 
the  exception  of  desertion.  The  military  prison  at 
Leavenworth  loomed  up  before  his  eyes  every  time 
he  thought  of  that. 

He  had  years  enough  on  his  shoulders  to  know 
better  (his  descriptive  list  gave  his  age  as  thirty 
two),  but  not  even  the  chance  of  winning  a  non  com- 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  197 

missioned  officer's  warrant  could  induce  him  to  make 
the  slightest  change  in  his  conduct.  He  loafed  about 
the  trader's  when  he  was  off  duty,  and  finally  got  into 
the  way  of  looking  out  for  things  in  the  store  during 
the  captain's  absence. 

One  day  he  did  some  thing  that  was  so  much  more 
contemptible  than  the  trader  would  have  stooped  to 
himself,  that  he  excited  that  gentleman's  admiration, 
and  won  his  lasting  friendship. 

A  contractor,  who  had  undertaken  to  supply  a  dis- 
tant post  with  fuel,  owred  an  agency  Indian  for  cat- 
ting sixty  cords  of  wood,  for  each  of  which  he  was  to 
receive  a  dollar  and  a  half  in  trade.  He  gave  him 
an  order  on  Captain  Barton  for  ninety  dollars'  worth 
of  goods,  and  the  Indian  rode  more  than  seventy 
miles  to  reach  the  store,  where  he  received  in  pay- 
ment for  his  labor  just  sixty  cupfuls  of  sugar.  Daw- 
son, who  happened  to  be  tending  the  store  in  the 
trader's  absence,  gave  it  to  him.  The  cup  with  which 
the  measuring  was  done  was  small,  and  the  sugar 
had  quite  as  much  sand  as  saccharine  in  it.  When 
Captain  Barton  heard  of  it  on  his  return,  he  patted 
Dawson  on  the  back,  told  him  that  he  was  cut  out 
for  an  Indian  trader,  and  gave  him  a  cigar. 

From  that  time  forward  Dawson  had  the  free  run 
of  the  store.  He  was  not  dishonest,  but  he  icas  a 
sneak.  No  doubt  you  have  seen  boys  who,  the  min- 
ute they  find  themselves  alone  in  the  house,  become 
possessed  of  an  irresistible  desire  to  pry  into  things. 
They  ransack  every  closet,  peep  into  drawers,  raise 
the  lids  of  all  the  trunks  they  find  unlocked,  not  writh 
the  intention  of  stealing  anything,  but  just  to  see 
what  they  can  find. 

That  was  the  kind  of  boy  Dawson  was  in  his  young 
days,  and  it  was  the  kind  of  man  he  grew  to  be.  One 
day,  when  he  was  alone  in  the  store,  he  took  a  notion 
to  look  into  the  trader's  desk,  read  his  letters  and 


198  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

find  out  what  he  had  in  there  that  was  so  valuable 
that  he  kept  the  lid  fastened  all  the  time. 

So  with  the  aid  of  a  file  and  a  piece  of  wire,  he 
fashioned  a  key  that  let  him  into  the  secrets  of  the 
man  who  trusted  him.  He  read  several  of  his  letters 
without  discovering  anything  in  them  that  was  im- 
portant enough  to  be  kept  under  lock  and  key,  until 
at  last,  from  the  very  bottom  of  the  package,  just 
where  the  captain  had  left  it,  and  where  he  expected 
to  find  it  again  when  he  wanted  it,  Dawson  drew  out 
an  envelope  whose  contents  made  him  open  his  eyes. 

A  few  swift  glances  made  him  master  of  all  the  in- 
formation that  was  to  be  found  in  the  letter,  at  the 
bottom  of  which  was  a  copy  of  the  cryptogram.  Be- 
low that  was  an  entry  or  two  that  Captain  Barton 
never  would  have  made  there  if  he  had  had  any 
reason  to  believe  that  any  eyes  other  than  his  own 
would  ever  rest  upon  the  paper.  They  ran  in  this 
way  : 

I  wonder  if  Gilbert  the  trapper  would  not  be  willing  to  give 
half  that  hundred  thousand  if  he  could  have  this  paper  in  his 
hand  long  enough  to  make  a  copy  of  it.  The  cipher  contains 
a  full  description  of  the  place  in  which  the  nuggets  and  dust 
are  hidden.  If  I  can  only  make  it  out- 
Six  months  later— I  have  tried  every  way  I  can  think  of,  but 
the  cryptogram  remains  a  sealed  book  to  me.  I  shall  have  to 
give  it  up,  and  lose  my  share  of  that  hundred  thousand.  Wish 
I  had  a  partner  who  was  worth  his  salt. 

"  Well,  then,  why  didn't  you  come  to  me  ?  "  solilo- 
quized Dawson,  who  could  scarcely  refrain  from 
giving  full  vent  to  his  exultation.  "  I've  got  a  valu- 
able secret  in  my  hands,  haven't  I?  What  shall  I  do 
with  it  ?     That  is  what  troubles  me  now." 

It  did  not  trouble  him  so  much  that  it  interfered 
with  his  movements.  He  seized  a  pen  and  began 
copying  everything  that  was  written  on  the  paper. 

Before  he  had  gone  far,  a  step  on  the  threshold 
caused  him  to  pause  in  great  alarm. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  199 


CHAPTER  XXVUI. 

DAWSON      HAS      AN      IDEA. 

"  Oh,  it's  you,  is  it,  Pilkins  ?  "  exclaimed  Dawson, 
when  he  saw  that  the  man  who  came  into  the  store 
was  not  the  trader,  but  one  of  his  own  company  boys. 
"I  thought  you  were  in  the  guard  house." 

"Just  got'out,"  growled  Pilkins,  who  was  another 
fellow  who  did  not  know  how  to  behave  himself.  _  "  I 
tell  you,  Dawson,  I  am  getting  tired  of  this  thing. 
When  a  little  fice  of  a  boy  lieutenant  can  report  me 
and  get  me  into  trouble  for  just  nothing  at  all— I  say 
I  won't  stand  it,  I  am  going  to  desert  the  first  good 
chance  I  get,  prison  or  no  prison." 

"If  that  is  vour  intention,  what  is  the  use  ot  pub- 
lishing it?"  inquired  Dawson.  "Say,"  he  added,  m 
a  lower  tone.  "Stand  by  the  window  and  act  as 
lookout  for  me,  will  you?  If  you  ne  any  one  com- 
ing toward  the  store,  let  me  know." 
"What  are  you  up  to?" 

"  Nothing  at  all  that  I  am  ashamed  of.  I  am  using 
Barton's  pen  and  ink  to  write  a  letter  ;  but  I 
shouldn't  like  to  have  him  catch  me  at  it,  for  he  never 
allows  anybody  to  go  behind  this  rear  counter.' 

Pilkins  winked  at  Dawson  as  if  to  say  that  he  could 
tell  a  story  that  was  worth  two  or  three  of  that,  but 
he  went  to  the  window,  while  the  other  resumed  his 
writing.  He  completed  his  task  in  a  few  minutes, 
and  then  locked  the  desk  and  came  out  from  behind 
counter. 


200  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

"  I  am  heartily  sick  of  soldiering,"  said  Pilkins,  as 
lie  moved  away  from  the  window.  "  If  I  ever  swear 
away  my  liberty  again  I  hope  I  may  be  shot  for  it. 
It's  a  bad  season  of  the  year  to  quit  comfortable 
quarters  and  go  philandering  off  over  the  plains,  but 
there's  no  help  for  it  that  I  can  see.  I  can't  wait 
until  spring,  and  that's  all  there  is  about  it." 

"  Anybody  going  with  you  ?  "  asked  Dawson,  care- 
lessly. 

"  Not  that  I  know  of.  You  are  the  first  one  I  have 
spoken  to  about  it." 

"  Got  any  money  ?  " 

"  Not  a  red,  and  I  shall  lose  the  four  months'  pay 
that  the  government  owes  me  ;  but  I  don't  care  for 
that.  If  I  could  induce  the  right  sort  of  fellows  to 
join  me,  and  we  could  make  our  escape  with  our 
horses  and  weapons,  as  Lawless  and  his  party  did, 
we  might  hold  up  a  stage  and  get  enough  money  to 
see  us  through." 

"  But  Lawless  didn't,"  exclaimed  Dawson.  "  He 
got  a  hole  through  his  arm,  and  he  is  now  at  Leaven- 
worth, serving  out  a  long  sentence  for  attempted 
highway  robbery.     Holding  up  stages  isn't  fun." 

"  I  understand  that,"  replied  Pilkins.  "  But  it  isn't 
at  all  probable  that  Gilbert  the  trapper  will  show  up 
again  as  he  did  when  Lawless  stopped  the  Durango 
coach.  That  was  an  accident,  and  it  may  not  happen 
again  for  years." 

And  this  reminds  me  of  the  story  that  Lieutenant 
Forrest  promised  to  tell  Gus  and  Jeriw  Warren  the 
first  time  he  "  got  a  day  off." 

This  man  Lawless  was  appropriately  named,  for  he 
was  certainly  one  of  the  most  lawless  characters  that 
had  ever  been  received  into  the  regular  army.  In 
less  than  six  months  after  he  arrived  at  Fort  Shaw 
he  had  seen  as  much  of  a  soldier's  life  as  he  wanted 
to  see,  and  forthwith  laid  his  plans  to  desert  with 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  201 

his  horse  and  weapons.  He  succeeded,  too,  and  in 
company  with  three  other  desperate  men,  started  for 
the  Pacific  coast,  with  the  intention  of  taking  pas- 
sage on  some  vessel  bound  for  the  States. 

They  had  but  little  ready  money  among  them,  and 
as  long  as  they  wore  their  uniforms  they  dared  not 
offer  their  horses  for  sale,  for  fear  of  exciting  suspi- 
cion.  There  was  but  one  way  in  which  they  could 
obtain  the  fund  they  needed,  and  that  was  to  "hold 
up "  the  Durango  stage  and  rob  the  passengers. 
The  fact  that  they  had  never  heard  of  a  single  fail- 
ure on  the  part  of  the  "road  agents"  who  used  to 
infest  that  part  of  the  country  encouraged  them  in 
the  belief  that  they  might  be  equally  successful. 

No  doubt  they  would  have  been,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  timely  appearance  of  Gilbert  the  trapper, 
who,  by  the  merest  accident,  came  upon  the  scene 
just  as  Lawless,  with  a  handkerchief  over  his  face 
and  a  revolver  in  his  hand,  rode  up  in  front  of  the 
stage  and  commanded  the  driver  to  halt  and  pay  his 
toll. 

Gilbert  saw  at  a  glance  what  was  going  on,  and 
without  stopping  to  parley,  he  raised  his  rifle  and 
sent  a  ball  through  the  robber's  arm.  That  took  all 
the  courage  out  of  Lawless,  and  out  of  his  comrades, 
too.  The  latter  had  been  ordered  to  come  out  of 
their  places  of  concealment  and  surround  the  stage 
the  moment  their  leader  brought  it  to  a  halt ;  but 
they  were  afraid  to  do  it. 

They  drew  farther  back  into  the  bushes  when  they 
saw  Lawless  fall  from  his  horse,  and  if  the  driver  of 
the  coach  had  showed  a  little  more  courage,  every 
one  of  the  deserters  might  have  been  captured  then 
and  there  ;  but  he  whipped  up  his  horses,  and  made 
all  haste  to  put  himself  and  his  passengers  out  of 
reach  of  the  storm  of  bullets  which  he  thought  would 
be  poured  upon  them  from  the  thickets. 


202  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

"  There  hasn't  been  a  stage  held  up  in  this  part  of 
the  country  since  Lawless  got  his  sentence,"  contin- 
ued Dawson.  "  There  is  no  need  of  it,  for  I  know 
where  we  can  get  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  by 
simply  digging  it  out  of  the  ground.  t  It  will  come 
out  of  Gilbert  Nevins's  pocket,  too." 

"Who's  Gilbert  Nevins  ?  "  asked  Pilkins. 

"We  know  him  as  Gilbert  the  trapper,"  replied 
Dawson,  speaking  as  rapidly  as  he  could,  for  he  saw 
the  trader  approaching.  "While  I  was  rummaging 
in  Barton's  desk  to  see  what  I  could  find  there  that 
was  worth  looking  at,  I  came  across  a  paper  that 
made  me  wonder.  The  rumors  we  have  heard  about 
that  boy  are,  in  a  measure,  true.  His  father  was  a 
miner,  who  was  killed  somewhere  near  Sweetwater 
Canyon ;  but  before  he  died,  he  buried  dust  and 
nuggets  to  the  amount  of  a  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars, and  the  paper  I  spoke  of  tells  where  to  find  the 
cache.  I  have  got  a  copy  of  it.  I  was  at  work  on  it 
when  you  came  in  and  frightened  me.  How  Barton 
came  into  possession  of  the  papers  I  don't  know  ; 
but  I  do  know  that  he  has  never  made  out  to  read  the 
cipher  that  tells  where  the  money  is  hidden." 

"  Can  you  read  it  ?  " 

"  I  believe  I  can,  but  I  must  study  on  it  first.  Now, 
if  I  take  you  in  with  me,  will  you  agree  that  I  shall 
manage  the  thing  from  beginning  to  end,  and  that 
you  will  leave  me  to  select  the  fellows  who  are  to  go 
with  us?  Four  are  enough.  That  will  give  us 
twenty  five  thousand  apiece." 

"  I  will  agree  to  anything  you  may  propose,"  said 
Pilkins,  eagerly.  "  If  I  can  get  away  from  here  and 
go  home  with  that  amount  of  money  in  my  pocket, 
you  will  never  catch  me  in  a  fix  like  this  again." 

At  this  moment  the  trader  came  up  (he  would  not 
have  greeted  them  as  pleasantly  as  he  did  if  he  had 
known  what  had  been  going  on  in  the  store  during 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 


203 


his  absence),  and  the  two  cavalrymen  bent  their  steps 
toward  the  barracks. 

There  were  plenty  of  soldiers  in  there,  but  tney 
paid  no  attention  to  Dawson  and  his  companion  as 
they  took  their  stand  at  one  of  the  windows  and  re- 
sumed their  conversation.  Of  course  Pilkins  became 
highly  excited  after  he  had  read  the  letter,  but  his 
countenance  fell  when  he  saw  the  cryptogram. 

"You  must  be  crazy  if  you  think  you  can  make 
sense  out  of  such  looking  words  as  these,"  said  he,  in 
a  low   tone.     "Why,   Captain   Barton    has   been    at 

work  on  it  for  six  months,  and  I " 

"Longer  than  that,"  Dawson  interposed.  "At 
least  you  would  think  so  if  you  could  see  the  paper 
I  found  in  his  desk.  It  looks  as  though  it  had  been 
read  and  studied  for  years.  I  tell  you  I  can  read  it 
if  you  onlv  give  me  time." 

"All  right,"  answered  Pilkins.  "I  certainly  hope 
you  can,  and  that  we  shall  find  out  where  the  money 
is  buried  It  would  be  a  great  streak  of  luck,  wouldn't 
it  ?  Sounds  like  the  Arabian  Nights,  don't  it  ?  After 
you  have  made  out  what  it  says,  come  to  me  and  we 
will  talk  further  on  the  subject." 

Luck  was  on  Dawson's  side  for  once,  or  else  he  was 
quicker  to  see  his  way  into  thiugs  than  Gus  Warren 
was  for  in  less  than  half  an  hour  after  Pilkins  went 
away  and  left  him  alone,  he  hastily  arose  from  his 
chair,  and  full  of  suppressed  excitement,  went  in 
search  of  Pilkins. 

Dawson  found  his  friend  after  a  while,  and  the 
latter  was  much  surprised  when  he  saw  and  read  the 
translation  that  was  placed  in  his  hands. 

The  next  thing  was  to  find  two  suitable  compan- 
ions, and  that  was  easily  done.  Dawson  spoke  to 
but  two,  and  they,  without  the  least  hesitation, 
agreed  to  everything  he  had  to  propose. 


204  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 


CHAPTEE  XXIX. 

IN    SWEETWATER    CANYON. 

Dawson,  fully  realizing  the  danger  of  the  enter- 
prise he  had  undertaken,  could  not  be  hurried.  He 
believed  in  making  haste  slowly.  They  could  not 
move  a  step  in  any  direction,  he  said,  until  the  reg- 
ular rotation  of  guards  brought  two  of  their  number 
on  post  on  the  same  night  and  at  the  same  hour,  one 
at  the  gate  and  the  other  at  the  stables. 

Although  Pilkins  and  the  other  two  grumbled  over 
this  arrangement,  they  submitted  to  it;  but  they 
were  not  obliged  to  wait  long.  The  time  for  action 
came  sooner  than  they  looked  for  it,  and  each  one  of 
the  deserters  knew  just  what  he  was  expected  to  do. 
Dawson  was  on  guard  at  the  principal  gate,  and  Pil- 
kins was  supposed  to  be  watching  over  the  safety  of 
the  horses  that  were  snugly  sheltered  in  the  stables. 
Inside  there  were  two  more  guards,  who  slept  in  a 
little  room  adjoining  the  stables;  but  they  were  not 
in  the  plot. 

Shortly  after  the  call,  "  One  o'clock  of  a  cold,  star- 
light night,  and  all's  well ! "  had  gone  the  rounds  of 
the  sentries,  two  dark  figures  crept  along  the  side  of 
the  stables,  close  in  the  shadows,  and  held  a  short 
consultation  with  Pilkins,  who  resigned  his  carbine 
to  one  of  them  and  cautiously  opened  the  door. 
Then  he  and  the  other  deserter  disappeared  in  the 
stable,  from  whose  dark  interior  there  presently  is- 
sued the  sounds   of    fierce  struggle,  mingled  with 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  205 

smothered  cries  of  alarm,  and  stern  orders  to  "Lie 
still  and  make  no  noise  if  you  want  to  see  the  sun 
rise  again,"  and  a  few  minutes  afterward  Pilkins 
came  to  the  door  leading  a  couple  of  horses. 

"  Hear  any  noise  ?  "  he  cautiously  asked. 

"Not  enough  to  hurt  anything,"  was  the  reply. 
"  They  made  a  fight  of  it,  didn't  they  ?  Did  you  tie 
them  ?  " 

"  Hard  and  fast,  and  gagged  them  to  boot,"  an- 
swered Pilkins.  "I  have  brought  your  horse  and 
Dawson's.  Take  'em  and  clear  yourself  with  as  little 
noise  as  possible." 

As  silently  as  so  many  specter  soldiers,  the  four 
deserters  swung  themselves  into  their  saddles  and 
moved  away  into  the  darkness.  Having  got  out  of 
the  fort  without  alarming  any  of  the  sentries,  they 
looked  upon  their  final  escape  as  an  assured  thing, 
and  now  their  fingers  began  to  itch  to  handle  the 
money. 

They  went  as  straight  to  Sweetwater  Canyon  as 
any  government  scout  could  have  led  them,  and  then 
they  paused  to  take  their  bearings. 

The  first  thing  they  noticed  was  that  for  about 
the  distance  mentioned  in  the  cryptogram,  three 
miles,  the  canyon  was  as  straight  as  though  it  had 
been  laid  off  with  a  transit;  but  the  first  object  they 
looked  for  they  could  not  find  anywhere.  There 
was  no  leaning  scrub  oak  tree  to  be  seen. 

"  The  man  who  wrote  that  cipher  ought  to  have 
known  that  a  tree  wasn't  going  to  stand  here  for 
sixteen  or  seventeen  years,  exposed  to  such  storms 
as  this  one  that  is  coming  on  now,"  said  Pilkins, 
spitefully.  "  How  did  he  think  anybody  could  find 
that  cache  of  his  with  nothing  to  go  by?  " 

"It  won't  do  a  bit  of  good  to  rail  at  him  now," 
replied  Dawson.  "Let's  scatter  out  and  see  if  we 
can  find  any  tree  that  has  recently  fallen,  or  one 


206  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

that  hasn't  been  down  long  enough  to  rot  entirel}' 
away." 

This  suggestion  was  complied  with,  and  the  de- 
serters were  looking  for  such  a  tree  when  the  bliz- 
zard burst  upon  them. 

"We  have  fooled  away  too  much  time  already," 
cried  Dawson,  as  he  saw  a  whirling,  blinding  cloud 
of  snow  sweeping  down  upon  him,  driven  with  ail 
the  force  of  a  shrieking  hurricane.  "  We  ought  to 
have  been  in  camp  an  hour  ago,  and  now  it's  ten  to 
one  if  we  ever  get  out  of  this.  Stick  together,"  he 
yelled,  in  the  vain  effort  to  make  himself  heard  and 
understood.  "  Rally  on  me.  If  we  become  separated 
we  are  lost." 

But  the  wind  caught  up  his  voice  and  bore  it  far 
down  the  canyon,  and  away  from  the  ears  of  his  be- 
wildered and  terrified  companions.  One  instant 
Dawson  saw  their  horses  prancing  about  a  short  dis- 
tance from  him,  and  the  next  the  storm  came  down 
in  all  its  fury  and  shut  every  thing  out  from  his  view. 

For  a  time  it  seemed  to  D.iwson  that  the  gale 
would  lift  him  from  his  saddle  in  spite  of  all  his  ef- 
forts to  prevent  it ;  and  while  he  was  holding  fast  to 
the  pommel  with  one  hand  and  to  his  horse's  mane 
with  the  other,  the  animal  suddenly  wheeled  and 
tore  up  the  canyon  at  the  top  of  his  speed. 

On,  on  went  the  frightened  horse,  without  an  in- 
stant's check  from  his  rider,  and  at  last,  after  what 
seemed  an  interminable  run,  he  made  another  sudden 
turn  and  came  to  a  stand  still.  Then  Dawson  re- 
moved the  heavy  cape  he  had  wrapped  about  his 
head  and  looked  out. 

He  could  see  a  short  distance  on  three  sides  of 
him,  and  on  his  right  hand  was  the  dense  thicket  of 
trees  and  bushes  behind  which  the  horse  had  stopped 
for  shelter.  It  broke  the  force  of  the  wind,  but,  as 
Gus  Warren  had  once  remarked  on  a  similar  occasion, 


GILBEKT  THE  TRAPPER.  207 

it  did  not  shut  out  the  cold,  aud  the  half  benumbed 
desertei  at  once  dismounted  and  made  preparation* 

toIe  ftffiold  of  the  bridle  until  he  had  taken 
onThe  saddle  to  which  his  weapons  bknket  and 
«nall  suonlv  of  provisions  were  fastened  ioiteai 
that  the almost  frantic  beast  might  take  to  his  heels 

bushes  when  Dawson  slipped  the  bridle  o^ei  ^ 
head  anil  neighed  shrilly,  as  if  trying  to  call  his 
neaa,   anu     _    o  f      fllo.e  ke  had  lound. 

M5r  lilteneV ttontly  hut  there  was  no  re- 
sp^  and  a  fearful  sensed  loneliness  crept  over 

^A  night's  refreshing  sleep  (for  weariness  overcame 
hi«  feare  and  made  him  sleep  in  spite  of  his  elicits 
^keep^ke),  quieted  his  nerves  in  ^  = 
infused  a  little  courage  in to  him,  and  put  a  Uitteieiu 

aspect  upon  the  situation.     He  was  able  to  reason 

with  himself  and  to  think  calmly. 

He  bad  not  neglected  to  bring  a  hatchet  with  km, 

and  with  its  aid  he  cut  down  a  cottouwood  foi  hs 

bo  U   to   browse   upon,   talking   familiarly   to    the 

supplv  of  wood  for  his  fire  and  sat  down  to  biod  a 
clipp  of  bacon  for  his  breakiast. 

^  Yht  th"  engaged  he  noticed  that  the  au-  around 
him  did  not  appear  to  be  quite  "^^Shto 
ZZZ)Z  °buT^  vSndTwLtCgingg,  and  now 
ard  then  he  camper  was  able  to  catch  a  momentary 
tltmnse  c,f  the^cks  on  the  other  side  of  the  canyon 
^Z  son  allowed  his  gaze  to  wander  along  the  ace 
of  the  rocks  simply  because  it  was  a  relief  to  his  eyes 
to  look  at  something  a  little  distance  from  him  ;  but 


208  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

he  did  not  see  anything  peculiar  about  them  until 
the  bacon  had  been  cooked  to  his  satisfaction,  and  he 
was  on  the  point  of  beginning  his  breakfast.  Then 
he  sprang  to  his  feet  with  an  exclamation  of  surprise 
and  triumph,  thrusting  his  hand  into  his  pocket  as 
he  did  so.  He  pulled  out  a  paper,  fastened  his  eyes 
upon  it,  and  read,  in  excited  tones  : 

" '  On  the  left  side  of  the  canyon,  three  miles  from 
leaning  scrub  oak  tree  at  entrance,  under  hanging 
rock.'  Now  there  is  the  hanging  rock,  but  is  that 
the  left  side  of  the  canyon  over  there  ?  It  certainly 
would  be  to  a  person  coming  into  the  canyon  past 
the  spot  where  that  leaning  scrub  oak  tree  used  to 
stand.     Who-whoop !     I've  struck  it." 

As  there  must  have  been  a  good  manv  hanging 
rocks  along  the  sides  of  the  canyon,  one  would  think 
that  Dawson's  conclusions  were  rather  hasty,  to  sa}r 
the  least  ;  but  he  did  not  seem  to  think  so. 

" '  Two  feet  below  the  surface,' "  said  he,  quoting 
from  memory,  as  he  waded  through  the  little  drifts 
which  the  wind  had  piled  up  in  the  gorge.  "  '  Remove 
leaves  and  stones,  and  the  fruits  of  years  of  toil  will 
be  revealed,'"  he  murmured,  looking  up  at  the  rock, 
and  then  in  the  direction  he  supposed  the  entrance 
to  the  canyon  to  be.  "  '  Give  it  to  my  boy,  I  pray  you  ; 
it  belongs  to  him.'  Sorry  I  can't  do  it,  but  he  is  as 
well  fixed  already  as  he  has  any  business  to  be,  if 
there  is  any  faith  to  be  placed  in  appearances." 

While  the  deserter  talked  to  himself  in  this  heart- 
less fashion,  he  was  scraping  away  the  leaves  with 
his  foot,  and  presently,  to  his  unbounded  surprise 
and  delight,  he  unearthed  a  layer  of  flat  stones, 
which  were  so  regularly  placed  that  they  could  not 
have  come  there  by  accident.  The  sight  of  these 
seemed  to  drive  Dawson  to  the  verge  of  insanity. 
He  set  up  a  yell,  as  long  and  loud  as  any  that  ever 
'  line  from  an  Indian's  throat ;  and,  sinking  upon  his 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  209 

knees  under  the  rock,  lie  tried,  with  almost  powerless 
fingers,  to  remove  the  stones. 

It  took  him  half  an  hour  to  accomplish  this  task, 
for  he  stopped  every  now  and  then  to  send  up  a  tri- 
umphant whoop,  hoping  that  it  might  reach  the  ears 
of  at  least  one  of  his  comrades,  and  guide  him  to  the 
spot  where  he  was  at  work.  But  suddenly  he  ceased 
to  call,  and  went  on  with  his  labor  in  silence. 

"  No,  no !  "  said  Dawson  to  himself.  "  I  will  share 
with  nobody.  I  have  worked  too  hard  and  endured 
too  much  to  think  of  that.  I  have  found  it  without 
help  from  my  friends,  they  are  not  in  sight,  and  I  say 
it  is  all  mine  ;  all  mine." 

Having  at  last  removed  all  the  flat  stones  that  cov- 
ered the  cache,  the  deserter  took  his  knife  in  one 
hand  and  his  hatchet  in  the  other  and  began  digging 
his  way  down  to  the  treasure  below. 

He  knew  when  he  reached  it,  for  the  knife,  with 
which  he  was  digging  away  the  frozen  earth,  struck 
upon  something  soft  and  yielding.  It  proved,  upon 
examination,  to  be  an  army  blanket. 

"  Here  it  is !  "  he  cried,  over  and  over  again. 
"After  all  my  weary  striving  and  scheming  I  am 
rich  at  last,  and  there  is  no  one  to  lay  claim  to  a 
cent's  worth  of  it.     Hail  Columbia,  Happy  Land  !  " 

With  eager  haste  the  deserter  threw  the  earth  out 
of  the  excavation,  after  loosening  it  with  his  knife, 
and  in  ten  minutes  more  he  lifted  out  its  contents. 

The  first  thing  Daw^son's  eyes  rested  upon  when 
he  opened  the  bundle  was  a  paper  with  something 
written  upon  it.  He  wras  on  the  jooint  of  tossing  it 
back  into  the  hole  with  an  exclamation  of  impatience, 
but  thought  better,  and  put  it  into  his  pocket. 

It  was  something  that  Gilbert  the  trapper  wranted 
more  than  he  wanted  the  other  things  that  were  in 
the  cache,  but  Dawson  never  thought  of  it  again. 
He  put  all  the  nuggets,  as  well  as  the  little  tin  cans 


210  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

that  contained  the  dust,  back  into  the  blanket,  raised 
the  heavy  bundle  to  his  shoulder  and  went  across 
the  gorge  to  his  camp. 

During  the  three  days  of  inactivity  that  followed 
he  scarcely  allowed  his  thoughts  to  wander  to  them 
at  all,  so  busy  was  he  in  dreaming  of  the  life  of  ease 
and  luxury  he  intended  to  lead  when  he  reached  his 
native  town.  How  surprised  every  one  would  be  to 
see  him,  and  wouldn't  he  hold  his  head  as  high  as 
the  best  of  them,  and  royally  snub  those  who  looked 
down  on  him  before  he  went  into  the  army. 

But  the  cessation  of  the  blizzard,  and  the  lean  and 
hungry  appearance  of  his  haversack,  warned  Dawson 
that  it  was  time  to  be  up  and  doing,  and  that  he  had 
many  weary  miles  to  travel  and  numberless  perils  to 
face  before  he  could  enjoy  the  felicity  of  snubbing 
his  old  acquaintances  who  had  incurred  his  displeas- 
ure. He  groaned  in  spirit  as  he  strapped  the  bundle 
upon  his  horse's  back,  bade  adieu  to  his  comfortable 
camp,  and  set  out  for  the  lower  end  of  the  canyon. 

Before  he  had  gone  half  a  inrie  he  found  some- 
thing that  made  him  shiver  all  over,  for  he  looked 
upon  it  as  a  premonition  of  the  fate  that  was  in  stoi«e 
for  himself.  He  almost  stumbled  over  one  of  his 
companions,  lying  stark  and  stiff  in  the  snow,  frozen 
to  death  during  the  blizzard.  The  body  was  lying 
face  downward,  and  when  Dawson  turned  it  over, 
Pilkins's  glazed  eyes  looked  up  into  his  own. 

"  Poor  fellow  !  "  said  Dawson,  choking  back  a  sob, 
and  forgetting  how  uneasy  he  had  been  for  fear  that 
this  very  man  might  walk  into  his  camp  and  demand 
his  share  of  the  contents  of  the  cache.  "He  is  mus- 
tered out  at  last.  Who  knows  but  I  may  get  my 
own  discharge  in  the  same  way?  He'll  never  need 
his  haversack,  and  so  I  will  just  take  it  along." 

Dawson  took  possession  of  the  canvas  bag  that 
contained  his  dead  comrade's  rations,  laid  the  cape 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  211 

of  his  overcoat  tenderly  upon  bis  white  face,  and 
said  "  good  by  "  in  a  suppressed  whisper,  and  has- 
tened from  the  sp>ot. 

Dawson's  objective  point  was  the  Durango  stage 
road,  and  in  order  to  reach  it  he  was  obliged  to 
take  his  back  trail  for  about  fifty  miles,  after  which 
his  course  lay  at  right  oblique  for  a  good  hundred 
miles  farther.  If  he  could  only  accomplish  the  first 
part  of  his  journey  without  getting  into  any  trouble, 
Dawson  was  certain  that  he  would  be  safe;  for  the 
last  hundred  miles  lay  through  a  country  that  was 
settled  by  stockmen,  who  would  help  him  along. 

As  long  as  pleasant  weather  continued  Dawrson 
got  on  wTell  enough;  but  before  he  had  left  Sweet- 
water  Canyon  twenty  five  miles  behind,  the  very 
thing  he  was  most  afraid  of — a  blizzard — burst  upon 
him,  and  drove  him  into  a  gully  for  shelter. 

For  ten  days  the  sun  never  showed  himself,  there 
was  not  a  single  landmark  to  guide  him,  and  when 
at  last,  after  struggling  hopelessly,  almost  aimlessly 
forward,  until  he  was  ready  to  drop  from  fatigue,  he 
stumbled  into  the  camp  he  had  occupied  two  nights 
before;  when  this  happened  Dawson  gave  up  in  de- 
spair. The  only  thing  left  for  him  to  do  was  to  kill 
his  horse,  cook  as  much  of  the  flesh  as  his  haversack 
would  hold,  and  make  a  fresh  start  without  his  bundle. 

His  horse  must  have  divined  his  master's  inten- 
tions regarding  him,  for  he  stood  quietly  until  the 
packs  were  taken  off  his  back,  and  then  made  off  at 
the  top  of  his  speed.  As  quickly  as  he  could,  Daw- 
son caught  up  his  carbine  to  stop  him  ;  but  he  was 
too  weak  to  hold  the  weapon  steady;  the  bullet  wTent 
wild  and  the  steed  disappeared. 

The  deserter  was  left  to  his  fate. 


212  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 


CHAPTEK  XXX. 

gus    warren's    discovery. 

We  must  now  return  to  Gus  and  Jerry  Warren, 
whom  we  left  standing  on  their  uncle's  porch,  watch- 
ing him  and  Gilbert  the  trapper  as  they  started  for 
Sweetwater  Canyon. 

"There  is  one  thing  about  this  business,"  said 
Gus;  "we  have  not  been  sent  to  the  fort  for  safe 
keeping,  as  we  were  when  Uncle  Jack  went  off  after 
the  Indians,  and  consequently  we  are  our  own  mas- 
ters. We  had  no  orders  to  stay  about  the  house  all 
the  time,  and  I  shall  go  and  come  as  I  please." 

And  it  pleased  Gus,  and  Jerry  as  well,  to  stay 
about  the  house  very  little  of  the  time,  and  to  be  in 
their  saddles  from  daylight  until  dark.  Their  prin- 
cipal place  of  resort  was  a  fertile  valley  among  the 
hills,  into  which  Uncle  Jack  and  Mr.  Wilson  had 
driven  their  cattle  at  the  very  first  sign  of  bad 
weather. 

It  was  on  a  cold,  bright  morning,  about  three 
weeks  after  Gilbert  and  the  rest  set  out  for  the  cache, 
that  the  remarkable  thing  happened  of  which  I  sj)oke 
awhile  back.  The  boys  had  spent  the  night  in  the 
valley  with  their  uncle's  herdsmen,  and  were  on  their 
way  to  the  ranch,  when  Jerry,  who  was  riding  a  little 
in  advance  of  his  brother,  suddenly  drew  rein,  and 
after  raising  his  hand  to  attract  Gus's  attention, 
pointed  steadily  and  silently  before  him.  Gus  looked, 
and  saw  a  thin  cloud  of  smoke  rising  toward  the 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  213 

sky  Beyond  a  doubt  there  was  a  camp  fire  where 
that  smoke  came  from,  but  they  could  not  see  it. 

"  Looks  as  though  it  came  out  of  the  ground,  don  t 
it  ?"  whispered  Jerry. 

"  Yes  •  but  of  course  it  doesn  t,  answered  his 
brother.'  "  There  must  be  a  gully  about  there.  See 
any  signs  of  it?     Well,  let's  ride  up  and  see  what 

we  can  find."  . 

Hiding  side  by  side  the  boys  urged  their  ponies 
forward,  and  in  a  few  minutes  came  within  sight  ot 
the  ffuUy,  and  stopped  on  the  bank  above  the  smol- 
dering bed  of  coals  from  which  the  smoke  arose. 

There  was  a  camp  there,  sure  enough,  but  it  was 
not  deserted.  A  figure,  the  ghost  of  a  man,  lay  in 
front  of  the  fire.  He  was  clad  in  a  suit  of  army  blue 
which  was  badly  tattered  and  torn,  his  brogans  were 
so  full  of  holes  that  they  afforded  his  feet  but  little 
protection  from  the  cold,  his  hands  were  white  and 
bloodless,  and  his  whole  frame  was  emaciated  to  the 
last  degree.  His  head  was  pillowed  upon  a  bundle 
tied  up  with  a  rope,  and  near  him  lay  a  blanket  and 

a  carbine.  .  , 

"It's  one  of  the   deserters,"  said  Jerry,  in  a  low 

«Gi  believe  vou're  right,"  replied  Gus.  "  But  is  he 
asleep  or  dead  ?   Hallo,  there  !  "  he  shouted. 

The  man  raised  his  head,  gazed  about  him  with  a 
bewildered  air,  and  when  he  saw  the  boys  standing 
on  the  bank  above  him,  stretched  a  trembling  hand 
out  toward  his  carbine. 

"None  of  that,"  said  Gus,  promptly.  <  \\  e  aie 
friends,  and  if  ever  a  man  needed  friends  I  guess 

you  do."  , ,.        .         -  •   i 

"That's  so,"  answered  the  soldier,  m  a  faint  voice. 
"  That's  so.  I  am  starving  by  inches.^and  this  bundle 
right  here  is  what  brought  me  to  it." 

"  What's  in  it  ?  "  asked  Jerry. 


214  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

"Dust  and  nuggets  and  greenbacks  and  money  of 
every  sort,"  was  the  astounding  reply.  "  As  much 
as  a  million  dollars'  worth  ;  or  else  a  thousand,  I 
don't  know  which.  Seems  as  if  my  brain  was  frozen, 
for  I  don't  know  anything  about  it." 

"  Ah  !     He's  cracked,"  said  Jerry. 

"  But  whatever  it  is,  it  is  all  mine,  all  mine,  and  I 
wTill  share  with  nobody,"  continued  the  man,  once 
more  thrusting  his  hand  out  for  bis  carbine,  but  in- 
stantly drawing  it  back  again  when  he  saw  the  black 
muzzle  of  Gus's  Winchester  rising  up  toward  his 
head.     "  Go  away  and  let  me  alone." 

The  deserter,  for  it  was  Dawson  and  nobody  else, 
made  a  feeble  effort  to  get  upon  his  feet,  but  his 
strength  failed  him,  and  he  fell  heavily  back  upon 
the  ground  again. 

"  Don't  try  it,"  exclaimed  Gus.  "  Wait  till  you  get 
something  to  eat.  Now  then,"  he  added,  in  a  lower 
tone,  "it  would  be  barbarous  for  us  both  to  go  off 
and  leave  this  poor  fellow  to  suffer  alone,  so  if  you 
will  go  to  the  house  after  help,  I  will  stay  with  him. 
I  can  at  least  build  up  his  fire  and  throw  a  blanket 
over  him.  Do  you  think  you  can  find  the  trail  with- 
out any  trouble  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  can." 

"  Well,  stay  here  and  keep  him  company  till  I  find 
some  way  to  get  down  to  him.  He  seems  possessed 
of  a  desire  to  use  that  carbine  of  his,  and  I  don't 
want  him  to  shoot  me.  He  doesn't  know  what  he  is 
about." 

Gus  rode  away,  looking  everywhere  for  a  place  to 
descend  into  the  ravine,  and  shortly  disappeared  from 
the  view  of  his  brother,  who  sat  on  his  horse,  keeping 
a  close  watch  over  the  deserter.  But  the  latter  made 
no  move  after  he  fell  back  upon  his  bundle,  until  he 
heard  Gus  coming  down  the  gully,  and  then  he 
merely  turned  his  head  and  looked  at  him. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  215 

As  soon  as  he  had  seen  his  brother  dismount  and 
tie  his  horse,  Jerry  galloped  toward  the  ranch,  while 
Gus  went  to  work  to  make  the  deserter  a  little  more 
comfortable.  His  first  care  was  to  place  the  carbine 
and  his  own  Winchester  safely  out  of  reach,  and  his 
second  to  draw  the  man's  clothing  snugly  about  him 
previous  to  wrapping  him  up  in  his  blanket.  Al- 
though the  latter  seemed  conscious  of  what  he  was 
doing,  he  made  no  remark,  not  even  when  Gus 
picked  up  and  examined  a  letter  that  dropped  from 
his  pocket,  while  he  was  buttoning  the  deserter's 

overcoat. 

Gus  started  as  if  he  had  been  shot  when  his  eye 
fell  upon  some  words  that  were  written  on  the  out- 
side of  that  letter,  and  instead  of  putting  it  back 
into  the  soldier's  pocket,  he  put  it  into  his  own  ;  and 
Dawson,  if  he  saw  the  movement  and  had  sense  to 
understand  it,  never  objected  to  it. 

The  boy's  face  was  white  with  excitement  as  he 
picked  up  the  hatchet  and  left  the  camp  to  cut  some 
wood  for  the  fire.  As  soon  as  he  could  do  so  with- 
out being  observed,  he  drew  the  letter  from  his 
pocket  and  read  : 

For  mv  beloved  boy,  Gilbert  Hubbard  Nevins.  A  short  history 
of  his  life,  together  with  instructions  how  to  proceed  to  find  his 
friends,  if  any  are  living  at  the  time  this  paper  falls  into  his 
hands. 

"  Set  Jerry  and  me  down  for  a  couple  of  block- 
heads," said  Gus  to  himself,  putting  the  letter  care- 
fully away  again,  and  sinking  the  hatchet  deep  into 
the  first  sapling  within  reach.  "Why  didn't  we  sus- 
pect something  like  this  the  minute  that  soldier  told 
us  he  had  nuggets  and  dust  in  his  bundle?  Well, 
Gilbert  Nevins,  you  can  thank  our  family  for  your 
good  fortune." 


216  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 


CHAPTEK  XXXI. 

gilbert's  return. 

At  the  end  of  three  hours  the  rattle  of  approach- 
ing hoofs  and  the  sound  of  voices  in  conversation 
awoke  Gus  Warren  from  a  reverie  into  which  he  had 
fallen,  and  put  an  end  to  his  suspense.  They  also 
aroused  the  deserter,  who  turned  his  head  and 
looked  at  the  boy  with  eyes  full  of  apprehension. 

"You  will  have  something  to  eat  in  a  few  min- 
utes," said  Gus,  encouragingly.  "  Some  of  my  uncle's 
cowboys  are  coming,  and  they  will  take  you  to  the 
house,  where  you  will  be  sure  of  good  treatment." 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  sent  back  to  Fort  Shaw,"  said 
Dawson,  in  a  querulous  tone.  "They'll  court  mar- 
tial me  and  send  me  to  prison." 

Before  Gus  left  the  camp  he  took  the  precaution 
to  secure  his  rifle  and  Dawson's  carbine.  He  did  not 
consider  it  safe  to  leave  such  dangerous  things  where 
the  half  demented  man  could  get  his  hands  upon 
them.  He  hastened  up  the  gully  to  meet  the  ap- 
proaching horsemen. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you  ?  "  exclaimed  Jerry, 
who  was  surprised  at  the  look  he  saw  on  his  brother's 
face.     "Has  the  man — eh?" 

"  Don't  talk  so  loud,"  cautioned  Gus,  at  the  same 
time  pulling  from  his  pocket  the  letter  of  which  I 
have  spoken.  "  That  man  has  robbed  Gilbert's  cache, 
and  I  believe  he's  got  the  nuggets  and  dust  in  his 
bundle." 

"  Why,  how  does  it  come  that  he  knew  anything 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  217 

about  that  cache?"  demanded  Jerry,  as  soon  as  he 
could  speak,  while  Sam  took  the  letter  and  read  the 
words  that  were  written  upon  the  outside  of  it, 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Gus.  "  Perhaps  he  will 
tell  us  all  we  want  to  know  after  he  has  recovered 
strength  enough  to  talk  about  it.  That's  pretty 
good  evidence,  isn't  it,  Sam  ?  "  continued  Gus,  who 
then  went  on  to  tell  how  he  had  happened  to  find 
the  letter. 

"  I  should  say  so,"  answered  the  herdsman.  "  Now 
keep  perfectly  quiet  about  it.  Don't  act  as  though 
you  suspected  him  of  doing  anything  out  of  the  way. 

"  Will  you  give  him  up  to  the  officers  of  the  post  ?  " 
asked  Jerry. 

"That  clepends.  We'll  wait  till  your  uncle  and 
his  party  get  back  before  we  decide  upon  anything." 

There  was  something  in  the  ring  of  the  herds- 
man's voice  when  he  uttered  these  words  that  made 
Gus  and  Jerry  look  wild.  A  terrible  suspicion  seized 
upon  them  at  once. 

"  Do  you  think — do  you  suspect "  began  Gus. 

"I  don't  think  or  suspect  nothing,"  answered  Sam. 
"  But  a  fellow  who  will  steal  will  do  worse,  and  not 
one  step  outside  the  house  does  this  man  go,  after 
we  get  him  there,  till  Uncle  Jack  and  his  company 
return.  If  they  show  up  in  due  time  all  right ;  it 
will  rest  with  old  Jack  to  say  what  shall  be  done  with 
the  deserter.  But  if  they  don't  show  up.  and  we 
can  find  no  trace  of  them,  this  man  won't  never  be 
tried  by  no  court  martial,  ]  bet  you." 

The  herdsman  said  no  more,  but  motioned  Gus  to 
lead  the  way  to  Dawson's  camp.  Could  it  be  possi- 
ble, the  boy  asked  himself,  that  the  deserter  had 
fallen  in  with  Uncle  Jack  and  his  party  and  killed 
them  to  get  possession  of  these  valuables? 

While  he  was  tl linking  about  it  he  and  the  cow- 
boys came  within  sight  of  the  camp. 


218  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

"  Hallo,  partner,"  exclaimed  Sam,  as  he  walked 
past  the  fire  and  leaned  over  the  prostrate  man. 
"Well,  if  it  ain't  Bud  Dawson  I'm  a  sinner.  You 
always  said  }rou  would  desert  the  first  good  chance 
you  got,  but  what  made  you  take  winter  for  it? 
Your  uncle  is  all  right,"  he  whispered  to  Gus.  "At 
least  this  man  never  harmed  him.  He  hasn't  pluck 
enough  to  harm' a  chicken." 

The  herdsman  issued  some  rapid  commands,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  the  fire  was  roaring  merrily  again, 
and  savory  odors  filled  the  air.  Dawson  begged  for 
a  crust  of  bread,  but  Sam  would  not  give  it  to  him, 
for  fear  that  his  stomach  would  not  retain  it.  He 
kept  him  waiting  until  the  broth  he  had  ordered 
prepared  was  ready,  and  then  stubbornly  resisting 
the  man's  efforts  to  take  the  dish  from  his  hands, 
fed  it  to  him  by  the  spoonful. 

"  Now,"  said  Sam,  at  last,  "  you  have  had  enough 
for  the  present.  Pat  him  on  my  back,  a  couple  of 
you,  and  I  will  carry  him  out  of  the  gully." 

"  Who  will  take  my  bundle  ?  "  asked  Dawson. 

"  Jerry  and  I  will  attend  to  that,"  replied  Gus. 
"  When  you  get  to  the  house  you  will  find  it  close  at 
your  heels." 

"  What's  in  it  ?  "  asked  one  of  the  cowboys. 

"Oh,  there's  dust  and  nuggets  enough  to  make 
me  rich  if  ever  I  live  to  reach  home.  But  it's  all 
mine,  every  bit  of  it." 

"  Where  did  you  get  so  much  plunder  ?  "  said  Sam. 

But  Dawson  wras  not  yet  ready  to  say  aii3rthing 
on  that  point.  He  simply  shook  his  head  and  looked 
wise,  and  that  led  the  cowboys  to  suspect  that  he 
had  more  sense  than  they  had  given  him  credit  for. 
It  also  aroused  the  ire  of  the  chief  herdsman,  who 
found  opportunity  to  say  to  Gus  that  Dawson  would 
have  to  tell  a  pretty  straight  story  before  he  and 
the  cowboys  would  let  him  go  scot  free. 


GILBEET  THE  TRAPPER.  219 

It  was  a  long  time,  however,  before  the  deserter 
was  able  to  tell  any  sort  of  a  story.  His  body 
gained  strength  every  day  under  Sam's  careful 
nursing,  but  his  mind  was  like  a  child's.  He  could 
remember  that  he  had  deserted  in  company  with  his 
friends,  but  where  they  went  and  what  they  did, 
and  how  it  happened  that  he  had  become  separated 
from  his  comrades,  he  could  not  tell. 

This  state  of  things  continued  so  long  that  Sam 
began  to  fear  he  had  made  a  mistake  in  not  send- 
ing for  the  post  surgeon  as  soon  as  Dawson  was 
brought  to  Uncle  Jack's  house;  but  one  day,  after 
the  boys  had  began  to  worry  over  their  uncle's  pro- 
longed absence,  and  tell  each  other  that  the}"  would 
never  get  anything  definite  out  of  Dawson,  the  lat- 
ter astonished  them  by  giving  a  complete  history  of 
his  wanderings.  He  went  fully  into  details,  omitting 
nothing,  and  every  one  who  listened  to  the  recital 
was  impressed  with  its  entire  truthfulness. 

"You  have  removed  a  heavy  load  of  anxiety  from 
our  minds,"  said  Sam,  in  much  kinder  tones  than  he 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  using  when  he  addressed 
the  deserter  "But  you  have  talked  long  enough. 
Tomorrow  I  will  ask  you  some  questions  ;  but  now 
you  must  go  to  sleep." 

Just  then  there  was  a  noise  of  tramping  hoofs  in 
front  of  the  house,  and  heavy  steps  sounded  upon 
the  porch.  A  moment  later  the  door  opened,  and 
Uncle  Jack  Waldron  came  in.  One  glance  at  his 
face  would  have  been  enough  to  confirm  part  of 
Dawson's  story,  even  had  he  not  uttered  the  words  : 

"We  have  returned,  but  we  made  the  trip  for 
nothing.  We  found  the  cache,  but  it  had  been 
robbed." 

Gus  Warren  smiled.  He  had  some  news  for  Uncle 
Jack,  and  when  he  told  it  its  effect  was  magical.  If 
you  had  gone  into  the  house  about  two  hours  later, 


220  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

after  tlie  caudles  had  been  lighted,  the  different 
stories  told,  the  fire  replenished  and  the  table  laid 
for  supper,  you  would  not  have  thought  that  the 
patriarch  of  the  group  you  saw  there  was  the  same 
dejected  and  forlorn  man  who  announced  that  he 
and  his  companions  had  made  their  long  and  peri- 
lous journey  for  nothing.  As  he  expressed  it,  he 
felt  as  happ}^  as  a  schoolboy  with  his  first  pair  of 
red  topped  boots;  but  the  practical  Gus  declared 
that  he  looked  and  acted  more  like  a  crazy  man. 

"  But  everything  has  turned  out  so  different  from 
our  expectations  that  we  can't  help  feeling  elated 
over  it,"  said  Uncle  Jack,  in  explanation. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  the  deserter  ?  " 
Jerry  inquired. 

"  I  shan't  do  nary  thing  with  him,  and  I  don't  be- 
lieve Gilbert  will  either.  He'd  oughter  be  strung  up 
for  trjdng  to  make  off  with  our  property,  but  wheres 
the  man  who  would  not  have  done  the  same  thing 
under  the  same  circumstances?  They're  mighty 
scarce  in  this  country,  I  tell  you.  But  if  he  knows 
when  he  is  well  off,  he  will  toddle  back  to  the  post 
and  give  himself  up  with  as  little  delay  as  possible, 
Dawson  will.     Ain't  that  so,  Gilbert  ?  " 

The  latter  was  sitting  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
fire,  looking  very  happy  and  contented  indeed  for  a 
boy  who  had  made  a  journey  of  four  hundred  miles 
on  horseback  in  the  dead  of  winter  for  nothing.  He 
had  read  his  father's  letter  and  examined  the  con- 
tents of  the  bundle,  while  listening  to  Dawson's 
story,  and  his  eyes  were  a  little  redder  than  usual. 

What  that  letter  contained,  no  one  but  himself 
ever  knew.  Probably  it  was  filled  with  advice  and 
affectionate  messages  which  were  too  sacred  for  other 
eyes  and  ears,  even  though  they  belonged  to  those 
who  had  stood  by  him  when  he  needed  friends  to 
help  him. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  221 

"Have  you  made  up  your  mind  what  you  will  do 
now  ?  "  asked  Jerry,  who,  boy-like,  wanted  everything 
settled  in  a  minute.  "  Are  you  to  accompany  us 
when  we  go  home  in  the  spring  ?  " 

"  Goodness  gracious  !  Why  don't  you  give  a  feller 
time  to  think  ?  "  exclaimed  Uncle  Jack. 

"I  have  been  thinking,"  said  Gilbert,  "and  have 
decided  to  start  for  the  post  the  first  thing  in  the 
morning.  I  will  take  Dawson  with  me,  if  he  is  will- 
ing to  go,  and  if  you  will  give  him  a  horse  to  ride, 
and  say  a  good  word  to  his  commander  for  him,  al- 
though I  don't  suppose  it  will  do  any  good.  Of 
course  I  shall  report  the  finding  of  that  body  in  the 
canyon.  Then  I  will  call  on  the  trader,  tell  him  how 
the  thing  has  turned  out,  and  ask  him  to  warn  Grizzly 
Pete  and  Buckskin  Bob  out  of  the  country.  Then  I 
will  go  and  hunt  up  my  partner.  I  shall  not  tell  him 
that  I  have  tried  to  get  Pete  and  Bob  out  of  his  way, 
and  you  mustn't  tell  him,  either.  I  don't  believe 
Josh  "would  ever  speak  to  me  again  if  he  should  hear 
of  it." 

"You  can  depend  on  us  to  keep  still  tongues  in 
our  heads,"  answered  Uncle  Jack.  "  Now  let  me  tell 
you  what  /have  decided  on.  After  you  have  found 
your  partner  and  told  him  how  the  tiling  stands,  you 
and  him  will  come  out  of  them  mountains  and  stay 
here  with  me  like  white  men  ought  to  do.  Then 
when  spring  comes,  we'll  pack  up  and  start  for  the 
East." 

"  "Will  you  go  with  us  ?  "  exclaimed  Gus,  in  high 
glee. 

"That's  what  I  was  kinder  calculating  on,"  replied 
the  ranchman,  who  was  greatly  pleased  wTith  the  idea 
which  had  suddenly  popped  into  his  mind.  "  I  have 
been  thinking  for  years  and  years  that  I  had  ought 
to  t&ke  a  play  day,  and  I  don't  know  any  better  way 
to  get  it  than  to  see  you  boys  safe  to  your  homes." 


222  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

Gilbert's  programme  was  duly  carried  out.  Early 
the  next  morning  he  started  for  the  post,  in  company 
with  Uncle  Jack  and  the  repentant  Dawson,  who  upon 
presenting  himself  before  his  commanding  officer, 
was  promptly  ordered  into  the  guard  house. 

Captain  Barton  was  the  same  "  accommodating 
fellow  "  he  had  shown  himself  to  be  when  Gilbert  and 
Uncle  Jack  last  visited  his  store.  At  the  boy's  re- 
quest he  told  how  he  had  come  by  "  that  paper  "  in 
the  first  place,  described  how  Dawson  had  managed 
to  obtain  a  copy  of  it,  and  Avound  up  by  saying  that 
he  was  highly  gratified  to  learn  that  Gilbert  had  at 
last  come  into  possession  of  his  own. 

As  for  Grizzly  Pete  and  Buckskin  Bob,  the  trader 
was  sure  Josh  Saunders  would  never  get  an  oppor- 
tunity to  draw  the  bead  on  them.  Tlie  mysterious 
occurrences  of  the  last  few  weeks  had  struck  terror 
to  Pete's  heart,  and  he  had  cleared  out,  bag  and 
baggage.  As  soon  as  Bob  had  recovered  from  his 
injuries  and  been  released  from  the  hospital  and  from 
custody,  he  had  gone  too. 

Gilbert  rested  two  days  at  uncle  Jack's  house,  and 
then  set  out  with  his  pack  mule  to  find  the  partner 
whom  he  had  so  long  deserted,  and  who  must  be 
pretty  hungry  by  this  time,  Jerry  thought,  if  he  had 
been  waiting  all  these  weeks  for  Gilbert  to  bring 
him  something  to  eat.  He  was  gone  just  a  month, 
and  when  he  returned  he  brought  Josh  Saunders 
with  him. 

Josh  was  not  the  sort  of  person  Gus  and  Jerry  had 
made  up  their  minds  to  see,  after  Gilbert  told  them 
of  the  threats  he  had  uttered  regarding  the  two 
squaw  men.  He  had  a  benevolent  looking  face  and 
a  mild  blue  eye  which  beamed  pleasantly  upon  the 
boys  as  he  shook  hands  with  them,  but  he  had  a  fear- 
ful grip,  and  his  massive  form  towered  a  full  head 
above  Uncle  Jack  Waldron's. 


GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER.  223 

"  Put  it  thar,  pard,"  said  he,  to  the  latter.  "  I  ain't 
never  had  the  pleasure  to  meet  you  afore,  but  I've 
seed  an'  heared  of  ye,  an'  I  want  ye  to  understand 
that  the  way  you  an' your  outfit  has  stuck  by  Gilbert, 
who  was  give  into  my  hands  with  Arizony  Charley's 
dyin'  breath,  makes  me  a  friend  to  the  hul  on  ye.  I 
won't  never  have  no  hard  feelin's  again  ye,  onless  ye 
take  him  off  to  the  States.  If  ye  do  that,  I  shan't 
like  none  of  ye  no  more." 

"  But,  Josh,  I  must  see  my  relatives,  if  I  have  any 
living,  and  haven't  I  promised  you  that  I  will  surely 
return  ?  "  said  Gilbert. 

This  was  a  long  and  weary  winter  to  Gus  and 
Jerry  Warren,  who  were  now  as  impatient  to  go  East 
as  they  had  once  been  to  come  West. 

But  all  earthly  things  have  an  end,  and  so  did 
their  period  of  waiting.  So  did  the  journey,  which 
was  undertaken  at  the  earliest  possible  moment. 

Uncle  Jack  stopped  but  a  short  time  at  his  sister's 
house,  where  he  and  Gilbert  met  a  most  cordial  re- 
ception, and  then  hastened  on  to  Clayton  to  "see 
Gilbert  through,"  as  he  expressed  it.  But  that  was 
easily  done.  All  the  old  residents  of  Clayton  knew 
and  loved  the  venerable  Judge  Xevins,  whose  only 
son  had  gone  off  to  the  mines  years  before,  and  who 
had  never  been  heard  of  since  the  day  he  wrote  that 
he  was  on  the  point  of  starting  for  home. 

Unlike  the  boy  in  the  story  who  runs  away  to  sea 
and  makes  a  fortune  while  he  is  gone,  young  Gilbert 
Nevins  did  not  arrive  at  his  father's  home  in  time  to 
relieve  his  aged  relations  from  2)ecuniary  embarrass- 
ment, for  they  had  more  money  than  he  had  ;  but 
they  were  glad  to  see  him,  and  the  affectionate  wel- 
come they  extended  to  him  when  his  identity  had 
been  established  beyond  all  peradventure,  made  Gil- 
bert wonder. 

One   stormy  winter  night  a  few  years  ago,  while 


224  GILBERT  THE  TRAPPER. 

seated  beside  my  camp  lire  in  the  foothills,  the  lead- 
ing incidents  in  this  story  were  told  to  me  by  the 
grizzly  old  frontiersman  who  was  acting  as  my  guide 
on  a  hunting  expedition.  I  have  seen  and  shaken 
hands  with  Gilbert  the  trapper  and  his  partners,  Gus 
and  Jerry  Warren,  and  if  you  go  to  Fort  Shaw  and 
ask  to  be  directed  to  their  outfit,  you  will  see  them 
also. 

You  will  probably  strike  Jack  "Waldron's  ranch  on 
the  road,  and  it  is  very  likely  that  the  old  fellow  Avill 
"  take  a  day  off"  to  show  you  the  way. 

The  boys  can  all  write  A.  M.  after  their  names  now. 
They  went  through  college  together,  and  engaged  in 
business  together,  preferring  life  on  a  ranch  to  con- 
finement in  a  close,  dusty  office. 

Josh  Saunders  is  their  principal  man,  and  although 
he  attends  strictly  to  business,  he  takes  a  "  day  off" 
now  and  then  to  look  for  Grizzly  Pete  and  Buckskin 
Bob.  He  has  not  forgotten,  he  never  will  forget, 
how  hard  they  tried  to  shoot  him,  and  to  steal  the 
dust  and  nuggets  that  rightfully  belonged  to  Gilbert 
the  Trapper. 

THE  END. 


drjv 


M316766 


